


The ends to justify the means

by aria_dc_al_fine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Ginny Weasley Bashing, M/M, Marriage Contracts, Mpreg, Royal Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28067064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aria_dc_al_fine/pseuds/aria_dc_al_fine
Summary: Medieval AU, end game drarry. Future mpreg.At eighteen, Harold "Harry" James Potter became the ruling monarch of a divided Kingdom. Since both the King and Queen Ginevra were from the liberal faction, the other faction felt uneasy. To quell the flames of another war, it was suggested that the King marry a Second Consort from the conservative pureblood faction.Despite the initial difficulties, Harry didn't expect it to be the best decision of his life.-----Extracts from the latest chapter:As Harry helped Malfoy get down from the carriage, he held on to the blonde’s hand for longer than necessary, his eyes fixed on the long, slender fingers.“Your Majesty?” Malfoy looked baffled.“Thanks for your hard work,” Harry wanted to say more, but the words were all jumbled up in his mind. “Have a good rest.”Malfoy stopped and stared at the King for a couple of seconds, before he retrieved his hand. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said gracefully, as always.Harry watched the blonde’s figure as he walked away; his head was… full.For once, he wasn’t thinking of Petra.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Li Syaoran/Draco Malfoy, Tartaglia | Childe/Zhongli (Genshin Impact)
Comments: 54
Kudos: 106





	1. A Kingdom, Divided

“No way!”

Several pairs of eyes turned towards the red-haired royal. 

“Your Majesty…” Hestia Jones started.

“No!” Ginny’s eyes flashed with anger. “This is unprecedented!”

“Maybe it's never been done in the Kingdom of Petra [1],” Lord Flitwick calmly interjected from his perch across the round table. “But I heard in Oriental Kingdoms, having several Consorts is the norm.”

The Queen took a sharp breath. “I can’t believe it…” she remarked through gritted teeth. “You are all actually seriously proposing this… this preposterous idea!” 

“I agree with my daughter.” Molly Weasley frowned. She stood up and walked around the large round table to wrap her arms around the young woman. “Why do you insist on this humiliation?” There was fire in her eyes, the eyes that were almost a carbon copy of the Queen’s.

The rest of the room turned their gazes to the man sitting next to the fuming pair of mother and daughter, the man who had a circlet of rubies and gold resting on his messy black hair. His green eyes were dull and unfocused.

“King Harold…” someone spoke helplessly when there was no reaction from the man.

Petra’s King raised his head. He surveyed the room with the same tired, lifeless eyes, before he reached out and took his wife’s hand.

Ginerva Weasley looked at the man she’d just married less than a year ago with hope on her beautiful face. “Harry, you won’t buy into this bullshit, won’t you?”

The King gave his wife a wan smile before he addressed the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. “Please leave.”

The reaction was immediate. “Your Majesty-” most raised their voices in a protest.

The monarch only raised his hand to silence his subjects.

Intelligent brown eyes observed the King with concern before the brown-haired woman rose to her feet to obey, but she was stopped. “Not you, Hermione. Luna and Neville too.”

“Oh,” the blonde woman who was halfway to the door tilted her head in that characteristically absent-minded way of hers. “Of course, Your Majesty,” she responded in her lilting, lyrical voice. The tall dark-haired young man trailed behind her.

Charlie Weasley uncrossed his leg and made to get up, but he was startled when Ronald Weasley banged his fist on the round table. “How about us?”

Arthur, Bill, Percy and George turned to look at the King at the same time, blue and hazel eyes keenly observing. Judging.

The black-haired monarch only stared back blankly.

The muggle-born in the room decided to rescue her friend. “You all have a conflict of interest,” she spoke to her in-laws in a soft, but firm voice.

The Queen flinched back visibly.

But her husband wasn’t letting go of her hand. The King turned to her and met her eyes. Finally, a spark of life entered those green eyes. “Ginny, I’m not keen either,” he said sincerely. “Believe me.”

She looked back at him, searching his face for something, before she sighed. Some of the tension left her back. “...All right,” she conceded.

Only after the entire Weasley clan departed from the meeting room and the 4 of them remained, Harry slumped into the chair at the head of the table. He casually gestured at his friends to take a seat. “What do you think of the proposal?”

Hermione, as usual, was the first to offer her thoughts. “I won’t deny that the skirmishes at the border regions are a concern… but the proposal is rather drastic. There are plenty of purebloods in the court,” she gestured at Neville and Luna. “Both of you are from pureblood Houses. The Sacred Twenty-Eight are represented as well… Other than Houses Weasley and Longbottom, we have Abbot, Shacklebolt, Prewett…”

“...None of us practices pureblood customs all that seriously, though...” Luna commented.

Neville hesitated, before he ploughed through, “It is slightly concerning that some of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Houses which were not deeply involved with the former King… chose not to return to the court. Like Houses Slughorn, Greengrass or Nott… They are just Counts, well liked by the residents of their fiefs...”

Harry sighed and slumped further into his chair. “Does anyone know why?”

The room fell into silence.

“We’ll look into it,” Hermione frowned. “I still honestly think the proposal is too drastic. It’s best to wait and see for a bit.”

“... Sure,” Harry sighed again before he forced himself to get up. He was always so tired these days. “Let’s call it an early night… we’ll be busy with our guests from Kasha tomorrow.”

The other three agreed.

As Harry lay face down in his bed, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t help but thank Merlin for having a separate bedroom from his wife.

* * *

For the first eleven years of his life, Harold “Harry” Dursley was an orphan raised in a small village in Surrey.

Life was miserable for the scrawny boy, scorned by his guardians and treated like a servant, often going cold and hungry. Sometimes, Harry himself didn’t know how he’d managed to survive those years.

Arthur Weasley was an impoverished lord whose ancestors had lost their county lands. House Weasley lived in the neighbourhood. One day, Arthur had met Harry in a terrible storm when the boy was out on an errand. The kind redhead had sheltered Harry in his cramped, badly-in-need-of-renovation, warm home. That was how Harry’s friendship with Arthur’s youngest son Ron began.

It didn’t take too long for someone to notice that Harry was almost a carbon copy of the late James Potter, the last heir of the duchy of Gryffindor, who had famously eloped with Librarian muggle-born Lily Evans. James’ and Lily’s lives had perished in the hands of the reigning terror of a dictator, the last heir of the duchy of Slytherin, King Tom “Voldemort” Riddle.

For the first time in his life, Harry learned that not only had he the rights to succeed the throne of the Kingdom of Petra… he also learned that magic existed, and that he was a wizard.

Harry was then quickly taken in by a resistance group, the Order of the Phoenix. They had been plotting for a revolution for _years_ , and were going to put their plans in motion after they were prepared, regardless, but finding someone with legitimacy to the throne didn’t hurt at all. A throne won through the right of succession always stabilised faster than that won through the right of conquest.

Harry had been disguised within an inch of his life and dropped into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he made more friends and honed his magical powers despite the fear and menace spread by Umbridge and the Carrows.

When Harry was sixteen, King Tom learned of Harry’s existence, and the Order of the Phoenix was forced to strike.

What followed was a bloody war that culminated in the dictator’s death in a duel against Harry.

And a Gryffindor heir reigned over the Kingdom of Petra once again.

* * *

The King of Kasha, Francis d’Aumont, was a middle-aged man with chestnut blonde hair and an amiable smile. His voice was pleasant as he greeted Harry. “Thank you very much for the invitation, King Harold and Queen Ginerva. We are so happy that Petra has decided to open her borders to us again, after 30 years.” He gestured at his company, a dark-haired woman who was decked to the nines in shiny precious stones and luxurious purple silk robes, and a blonde blue-eyed man whose somber, dark robes couldn’t hide how gorgeous he was. He wore a bejeweled choker that one really couldn’t miss, a diamond almost as big as a pebble adorning its centre. “Please let me introduce you to my Queen, Maria Carolina, and my Maîtresse-en-titre, Timothée Clement.”

Ginny visibly twitched. Harry forced a wide smile onto his face. He’d only been in the stifling red and gold robes that he was forced into for less than an hour, and his entire body already itched. His official crown was heavy too. “We are happy to have you as well.”

Barely fifteen minutes into the banquet, something had already turned out wrong. “Milord,” Ginny addressed Timothée for the first time that night, her smile stiff. Harry knew that the presence of the chief mistress only reminded her of yesterday’s argument. “How do you like your Merlot? Would you prefer other types of wine?”

As Ginny spoke, Harry could see Fleur cringing from the other side of the long dining table. She made some abortive movements with her hands, and the blonde part-Veela sighed at the end of Ginny’s questions.

It was clear that some sort of faux pas had been committed, when the Queen of Petra was only replied with the coldest glare from Kasha’s Maîtresse-en-titre’s arctic blue eyes.

“Your Majesty,” the King of Kasha’s smile looked strained. “Please forgive us… I’m afraid we have to decline your kind offer.” The middle-aged man leaned over to caress the choker on the blonde’s neck. “We are expecting.”

Harry’s eyes widened. He’d been part of the wizarding world for eight years, but it was the first time he heard that wizards could get pregnant. There was always something new to discover, it seemed impossible to catch up.

“...I see,” judging from the dumbfounded expression on his wife’s face, this must not have been common knowledge. 

Lady McGonagall cleared her throat loudly, and it seemed to snap Ginny back into motion. “I apologise for my ignorance… I didn’t mean to be rude…” she gave a small bow with her head.

“It’s fine. We know that you didn’t mean to harm us,” Francis’ reply was warm, but Harry could sense that the gazes of his courtiers turned more judgmental.

The atmosphere of the dinner changed. There was some tension in the air. Harry was threading through the conversations more carefully than he’d ever been, always keeping Fleur’s expression in view. Whenever the blonde woman started to frown, Harry was quick to change the topic.

The tension broke in the worst possible way when Timothée took a sniff of the piece of meat he was served. “Is this… pork!?” he sounded very indignant.

A lot of the delegations from Kasha looked alarmed. Some cutleries clanged as they were dropped onto the plates. Queen Maria Carolina paled, while a couple other guests from Kasha surreptitiously spat their food into their napkins.

“Tim,” Francis said his chief mistress’ name with a warning in his tone, but the expression he had given Harry was very strained indeed. “I take it that the people of the Kingdom of Petra do not participate in the ritual of Attis and the ceremonies?” [2]

Almost everyone from Harry’s court looked back at their guests blankly, except the ancient Lord Binns, who used to teach Harry History of Magic in Hogwarts. He rose to his feet shakily and took a very deep bow, wrinkly hands leaning heavily on his cane. “Please forgive this feeble mind… I have turned forgetful with age… We sincerely apologize to the people of Kasha…”

Harry stood up and followed suit. “We sincerely apologise for our ignorance, Your Majesty. We do not mean to harm or interfere with the ritual…”

There was a pocket of silence before Harry heard the King of Kasha sigh.

“We understand that Petra had gone through much turmoil in the past few decades, and indeed Kasha was eager to reinstate trade between the two Kingdoms…” The past tense made Harry wince inwardly. 

Another silence followed. It seemed Francis was lost on how to continue as well.

“Your Majesty,” someone spoke in a lyrical tenor voice. “I’m exhausted.”

“I understand, Tim,” Francis sounded relieved. The entire delegations of Kasha rose to their feet as Harry looked up from his bow. “King Harold, I’m afraid we would have to retire early tonight. I hope you understand.”

Really, it wasn’t like _everyone_ needed to follow Timothée back to the rooms Harry had arranged for his royal guests, but it wasn’t a point worth arguing. “Of course,” the green-eyed man smiled. “We wish you a good rest, Your Majesties.”

What a disastrous banquet. 

Petra’s first attempt at reopening her borders to other non-blood-supremacist Kingdoms was a wreck.

As Harry was leaving the Banquet Hall, he could hear some whispers from the floor. 

‘ _This is the problem when a half-blood takes the throne…’_

‘ _Shush! At least it’s better than when You-Know-Who reigned... ’_

_Someone barked in laughter. ‘That isn’t such a high bar!’_

_‘If only the lines of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff didn’t die out…’_

Harry squeezed his eyes tightly and clenched his fists.

During the war, after the Order of the Phoenix _finally, finally_ came clean to Harry about their intention to make him King all along, Harry knew that it wasn’t going to be an easy journey. Harry knew, but…

God, he was just so tired.

* * *

The delegations from Kasha hightailed it back to their territories the next day, and a migraine had formed behind Harry’s eyes.

“... None of those customs showed up in my research,” Hermione was apologetic, but also sulking. “All books I have perused through say that Kasha has similar customs and culture with Petra-”

“Exactly,” Andromeda Tonks sighed as she rocked her sleeping grandson in her arms. “Purebloods who used to occupy the highest echelons of Petra also practice the ritual of Attis. And arrange marriages between wizards.”

Her expression was fully contrite when Harry leaned over to gaze at Teddy. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know of those customs beforehand, Harry. Most pureblood customs aren’t documented… They were passed down from parents to children...we just grew up with them, and they become our common sense but not common sense to anyone else…”

Harry caressed Teddy’s smooth cheeks. He had always loved children. “It’s our fault for not consulting you about the menu. We didn’t think of it. Besides,” he smiled when baby Teddy scrunched his nose, “You’ve not been following those customs for so long… It’s natural you forgot a lot of them.”

Andromeda showed Harry a grateful smile. “... You are right…” she shuddered slightly as her grey eyes took on a faraway look.

Harry imagined the memories weren’t all that pleasant for the elderly witch… they were memories she’d rather buried, and he wasn’t going to force her to dig them back out…

The peaceful afternoon was interrupted when a messenger barged into the Castle apartment Harry had designated permanently for his godson’s family. The messenger looked harried.

Harry narrowed his eyes irately. “I said not to disturb me this afternoon.”

“I am so sorry, Your Majesty!” The messenger dropped to his knees. He was sweating bullets. “Lord Shacklebolt has a very urgent and important message for you!”

Harry straightened up immediately. Count Shacklebolt was the elected ‘Hand of the King’, the leader of a small council whose job was to oversee the House of Lords. Harry respected the wizard immensely. “Speak,” he commanded.

The messenger inhaled sharply. “This early morning, Durmstrang attacked Count Nott’s fiefdom… and the Count has surrendered!”

The migraine behind Harry’s eyes threatened to overtake his whole head. The King gritted his teeth. “Tell Count Shacklebolt to assemble the war council. And tell Count Moody to start preparing provisions for the Aurors and Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” The messenger ran as though his heels were on fiendfyre.

_It hasn’t even been one year since the war ended…_ Harry pressed his fists to his eyes. His headache was killing him.

The King felt the tap of a wand on his temple, and a cooling sensation helped reduce the sharp aches.

Harry gave Hermione, who was all packed and ready to go, a grateful smile. “How do I live without you, Hermione?”

“You can’t,” The brilliant witch smiled wryly and shrugged, “Come, Harry, we have a war council meeting to attend.”

Harry turned to look at his godson wistfully one last time. “Bye, Teddy. Bye, Andromeda.”

The widower returned his greeting with a wistful smile of her own, while Teddy remained asleep, his expression so innocent and carefree.

Harry swore he would work his hardest so that Teddy would never have to experience the hell on earth that was a war ever, in his life.

* * *

The good news was, it was not Durmstrang's army that officially invaded Petra, but an independent army of fanatic former Death Eaters, led by a survivor of House Macnair who had managed to flee to Durmstrang at the end of the bloody war. 

The second wave of a long-drawn war Harry had feared didn’t come to fruition; Walden Macnair’s army was quickly subjugated.

The bad news was, Macnair refused to name any accomplices and he had killed himself with a hidden dagger to keep his secrets to the death. He must have been very desperate for a proud pureblood wizard to choose to end his life the muggle way.

Harry was paranoid that there were other fanatic, smarter former Death Eaters who infiltrated Durmstrang’s court or even allied with some of the ‘neutral bystanders’ pureblood families who did not flee to other Kingdoms, and were simply biding their time, plotting their revenge like the Order of the Phoenix did. 

It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Lord Igor Karkaroff, a well-known former Death Eater, had the confidence of the Durmstrang Royal Family, after all, and Cantankerus Nott had indeed transferred his son to the wizarding institute in the Durmstrang Kingdom at the start of the war and Theodore simply never came back to Petra. Many pureblood Houses who remained in Petra had also sent their heirs or spares abroad.

Harry wasn’t alone in his paranoia. A lot of people in the Order of the Phoenix appeared shaken by the implication of Walden Macnair’s foolish but bold move and his military resources. The idea of the former Death Eaters’ retaliation was always in everyone’s mind, of course, but it had been more of a distant possibility before the incident.

“Of course, my bo- Your Majesty,” Count Slughorn readily acceded to Harry’s request to ask him a few questions. The King was staying in the Estate of Count Nott’s neighbour while he was deciding on the elderly pureblood wizard’s fate. Cantankerus Nott was suspected of being Macnair’s accomplice instead of an unwilling victim.

Harry smiled wryly in his mind. Everything was a calculate move for Professor Slughorn, his former Potion teacher for a brief period in Hogwarts. Harry didn’t believe Slughorn made a genuine mistake when he was addressing Harry. 

“Thank you so much, Count Slughorn. I know I can always trust you,” butter wouldn’t melt in Harry’s mouth.

“Your Majesty, please call me Horace,” The Potion teacher couldn’t help but preen a little. Harry didn’t miss the shadow of concern that crossed Slughorn’s blue eyes, however. Harry used to not be able to read subtle changes in expressions… it was surprising how much he’d changed since he’d taken the throne. 

“Horace,” Harry used the permission straight away. It was Slughorn’s loss. “I have missed you, your brilliance and keen insight. Wouldn’t you come to my court?”

The panic in the older wizard’s face was unmistakable, before the emotion was quickly extinguished and replaced with a wide smile. 

“I am deeply honoured that Your Majesty misses this old wizard and finds his skills useful. However, this old wizard is tired… This old wizard would like to return to retirement and live a quiet life…”

He sounded convincing enough, but Harry didn’t give up.

“How’s your nephew?” The King asked pleasantly as he swirled the wine in his glass, “I remember he pursued your path as a Potions Master… He is living in Durmstrang, I believe?”

Cold sweat began to drip from Slughorn’s temple. “Yes, he is! Quentin has a sweetheart there; he’s been writing so much about her in his owls to me…”

Harry was undeterred. “I will be happy to extend the invitation to Quentin’s significant other as well as any number of people they find essential.”

Slughorn appeared speechless, before he coughed to regain his composure. “I’m afraid Quentin’s sweetheart has important commitments for the next five years… And my niece, Roseline, her work in Kasha-” [3]

Harry lost his patience. “Horace, what is so bad about going to my court?” He asked bluntly. 

_Deep down, I am still a Gryffindor through and through,_ the King thought, somewhat bitterly.

“No, Your Majesty, I-” Slughorn hurried to explain, but Harry squashed the excuses down.

“Horace, do I look stupid to you?” Harry let some of his temper and magical powers show. He’d been told that he was so powerful, his magic shimmered around him like hot steam when he was truly angry. The King wasn’t really angry now, but it was a useful intimidation tool. “Are you secretly one of those people who lament the end of the Ravenclaw’s and Hufflepuff’s lines?”

“Not at all, Your Majesty!” Harry felt slightly guilty that his acting had made the elderly wizard drop to his knees, his bones creaking audibly. “I am loyal to Your Majesty! Never have I harboured the thought of having anyone else on the throne!” He suddenly turned and snapped his fingers. “Lizzy!”

A House Elf appeared in the drawing room, wrinkled and stooping. Harry suspected she wasn’t that much younger than Kreacher. “Master call Lizzy?”

“Bring me a bottle of veritaserum from my Potions Closet! The bottle is labeled-”

“Stop,” Harry didn’t mean for things to get this far. He didn’t want to impart the impression that he truly didn’t trust his former Potions teacher. “There is no need, Horace.”

Slughorn turned to Harry with a hopeful look in his eyes. “My boy-”

Harry was unable to tell whether this error was deliberate or not. The elderly wizard appeared really shaken. “I still want to know _why,_ Horace,” the King didn’t budge even as he was helping the other man back to his chair.

Harry could see the moment Slughorn gave up. His straight-backed posture changed slightly. For once, Slughorn looked weary and every inch the centennial he was. “Your Majesty…” His eyes were imploring.

“I promise I won’t penalise you, Horace,” Harry had an inkling of what he was going to hear anyway, “even if you say something untoward about my court.” He revealed his mind.

“How can I-” Slughorn had a knee-jerk reaction to deny what Harry said, “So many of my dear colleagues-”

Harry merely shot him a deadpan stare.

Silence enveloped the lavishly decorated drawing room before Slughorn sighed. “I do not feel safe,” he admitted in a small voice.

Harry raised his eyebrow. “... I have fully pardoned you for the…” He hesitated to release the word into the air again. The knowledge of horcruxes was better off fully exterminated from the world.

“And of course, I am very, very grateful for the amnesty, Your Majesty,” Slughorn was quick to follow up. “Perhaps… ‘safe’ isn’t the most appropriate word… more like… ‘respected’?” He murmured.

Harry let the older wizard ramble. “It’s not that I believe in pureblood superiority - I’ve had many muggle-borns and half bloods in my Slug Club, you know this, Your Majesty - it’s just… this old wizard is used to certain… lifestyle and practices… and it’s hard to change…”

“I see…” Harry sighed inwardly. It was just as what Lord Flitwick had mentioned in the disastrous Order of the Phoenix meeting that day. The conservative purebloods needed someone who could promote their interests in the Royal family. “Won’t keeping your heirs out of the court just harm your interests further?”

Slughorn was hesitant again, but Harry waited patiently, keeping his expression open. 

“I’m not sure if Your Majesty understands… but having to prove oneself to authorities who are already biased against you is…” The Potions teacher trailed off. “Compared to having a fresh start abroad…”

Harry closed his eyes and thought of the Dursleys. Of course he understood. 

The court of Petra had swung from being strongly conservative to being strongly liberal too fast that the previous upper class felt that they had lost their footing. 

Although they had lost their political power, those conservative purebloods had wealth and network. They still had influence on people who were loyal to them. Their grip on various institutions across the Kingdom wasn’t inconsiderable either. Alienating the entire group would only prove to be harmful.

Petra needed balance.

Harry longed to press his fingers against his temple. But he still had an audience. “I hear you,” the monarch settled with that response. “Thank you, Horace. Your opinion is valuable.”

The centennial looked touched. “Your Majesty,” he bowed his head.

Harry took a deep breath.

_Heavy is the head that wears the crown._

* * *

“No!!!” Ginny’s reaction wasn’t any less intense the second time around. If anything, it was the opposite. Her chair toppled as she shot to her feet. “I thought you said you don’t want to!”

“I wasn’t lying, Gin. I don’t want to if we can avoid it.” Harry turned his pleading gaze to his wife. It was far too public to be having this argument in front of their courtiers, regardless of the fact that only members of the Order of the Phoenix were in the room. _We’ll have to stop these exclusive meetings too, huh?_

“Then don’t do it!” She looked like she was going to cry. “Macnair was just a crazy fanatic! We managed to subdue his gang, didn’t we!?”

“Gin,” Harry didn’t know how to make her understand. “Macnair wasn’t the end. There are so many other conservative purebloods-”

“Harry,” Ginny leaned close and cupped his face. “Harry, please don’t do this. I love you… does it mean nothing?”

“Gin...” This was too much. Was she aware that they had an audience? Was that why she responded this way? What did she expect him to reply? “We are Petra’s King and Queen. We don’t just belong to ourselves…”

At Harry’s answer, the Queen was filled with anger. She stepped away, her face contorting in fury. “If you’re that afraid of them, confiscate their wealth! Strip them off their lands and titles! You are the king, aren’t you!?” 

Harry couldn’t believe what he heard.

His blood was boiling. “Do you want Petra to plunge into another war!?” He roared.

It was so quiet one could hear a pin drop. Harry himself felt like he was sizzling in fire, like there was so much pressure against his skin his body couldn’t contain it all. He felt like he was going to burst. The air around him crackled with energy.

“Do you think they will do nothing as we threaten their livelihoods!? Even cornered animals will attack for survival!”

The rage was gone as soon as it came, suddenly replaced with melancholy. “If we have to wage another war… What did Dumbledore die for? What did Sirius, Remus and Tonks die for? What did Teddy lose his parents for!?” Harry choked, his chest heaving painfully as he sobbed. He couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “What did your brother die for!?”

Ginny’s eyes turned glossy with tears, too, but Harry’s thoughts and emotions still didn’t come across. “The deaths are their fault, Harry! All the more we shouldn’t forgiv-”

“HOW COULD YOU!?” Harry swung his hand in a slashing motion and accidentally released a non-verbal, wandless spell. The wind produced by his magic nearly knocked every furniture in sight. “They are still Petra's citizens!! ENOUGH! THIS DECISION IS FINAL!”

Harry hung his head and looked down at the floor resolutely. He only stood and listened as the sound of several pairs of footsteps filled the air, followed by a loud bang of the doors closing.

A tense silence descended upon the room again. As Harry berated himself in shame for losing his temper, a hand rubbed his shoulder.

The young King looked up to see the wise old face of Headmistress McGonagall, his former Head of House in Hogwarts. Some of the older members of the Order also stood around him with concerned expressions on their faces. Harry caught sight of Fleur and Charlie, still seated at the table, and a little relief filled him. 

“You made the right decision,” McGonagall reassured him. “Petra has always been a divided Kingdom. Now, and a hundred years ago. There was a reason Tom Riddle was able to worm into the hearts of those purebloods… he exploited their fears. Power will continuously swing between the two factions until something is done to bridge the differences.” 

She smiled at him like a grandmother would a dear grandson. “I have always believed that you have the courage to do what needs to be done.”

Harry smiled wanly. He felt glad to hear that he didn’t just make a huge mistake. 

And that was how the Kingdom of Petra came to legalise a Second Consort for the King.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] ‘Petra’ and ‘Kasha’ are from the manga ‘The Biography of Queen Bertha’. It’s an interesting manga about a royal family reigning over a divided kingdom - the reigning Aryan foreign invaders and the natives. There are also some blood supremacy issues. I have thought of this fanfic’s plot line LONG ago but reading the manga made me want to write this.
> 
> [2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scottish_pork_taboo - consuming pork is temporarily banned for purification purpose for some of the ritual
> 
> [3] https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Slughorn_family - it’s said Slughorn has no children and his heirs are his relatives


	2. The Life Debt

WARNING: This chapter has some references to Harry/Ginny intimacy. They are not graphic, but please be warned.

The Order’s first recommendation was the Greengrass sisters.

“House Greengrass practices pureblood customs devotedly, and they steered clear from the war,” Count Shacklebolt stated his rationale clearly.

Count Slughorn, whose assistance had been requested in the endeavor, endorsed Shacklebolt’s choice readily.

Of course, Daphne and Astoria had been transferred to Beauxbaton during the very early stages of the war, when the Order was still only engaging in guerilla attacks. Like Theodore Nott, they never returned to Petra, so Harry couldn't exactly pop in for a visit to meet them. So he sent an official letter to Lord and Lady Greengrass, requesting for their daughter’s hand.

Harry did not receive any reply. The next he checked, Lord and Lady Greengrass had followed their daughters and settled down in Kasha, leaving their fiefdom to be managed by their half-blood distant relatives.

Hermione grimaced as she made a suggestion. “Millicent Bulstrode.” She didn’t know many conservative purebloods their age.

Slughorn shook his head. “House Bulstrode is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but Miss Milicent is a half blood. So is Miss Tracey Davies.” 

Harry, Hermione and Neville frowned as they were thinking hard. Only Luna didn’t seem perturbed. “...Oh, how about Gemma Farley? She isn’t that much older than us, I don’t think...” the blonde young woman suggested.

“She is…from a conservative pureblood family, I think.” Slughorn rubbed his chin. “But her family isn’t… exactly influential.”

Harry peered at the elderly Potion Masters. “Your niece…” he tried again.

Slughorn avoided Harry’s gaze. “Y-Your Majesty, Roseline is… really happy in Kasha. She will hate me if I bring her into this…” he rubbed his hands nervously.

“There is no getting out of this, it seems,” Hermione heaved a loud sigh. “Pansy Parkinson.”

Silence dawned upon young and older magicians alike. They were all recalling when the young woman spoke up in favour of turning Harry over to King Voldemort toward the end of the Battle of Hogwarts, where they were all huddling for shelter in the bombarded fortress.

Harry couldn’t help but think that if Ron were there, the redhead would have groaned and said something along the line of, “Really? How desperate are we?”

Slughorn broke the silence with his fidgeting. “M-miss Parkinson does have the correct profile…”

So Harry obediently sent several more official letters.

* * *

NOTE: Those who want to skip Harry/Ginny, don't read this section.

“Who is it this time?”

Harry was startled off his deep thoughts as he was reading through the tax reports Percy had compiled for him. The green-eyed wizard saw his wife standing by the door of his bedchamber in a thin nightgown.

“Gin,” he lifted his blankets and beckoned her closer. These days, the nights were unusually cold, too cold for such outfits. True enough, Harry could see the outline of her nipples against the fabric, stiff from the chilly air. 

The redhead snuggled up against Harry and placed his arm around her cold shoulders, her bosom pressing against his side. Harry knew better than to use magic to warm her up. The first time he did that, she was so miffed she threatened to release her bat-bogey hex on him. Harry waited for her to continue, but when nothing was forthcoming, he returned to the numbers on his parchments.

“...so who?”

“Who what?” Harry replied without looking up.

The wizard _knew_ she was frowning even without looking at her.

“So, after Viola Richmond also ignored your _proposal_ , who else are you sending it to?” Irritation filled her voice. Despite that, she began to paw at the tunic he wore to sleep. 

Harry put aside his papers with an inward sigh. There was no stopping his wife once she’d set her mind to have sex with him. Not that he was particularly opposed. Ginny had been strangely horny quite often recently. Once she had settled on top of him, he answered her question. “Pansy Parkinson.”

Ginny snorted as she moved her hips against his. “Seriously?”

Harry sniggered. “Yes, I know.”

Few words were spoken after, only moans and grunts filling the air.

“Harry,” hands searched his face, touching all over, “you won’t give your heart to anyone else, won’t you?” Her eyes were bright in the dimly lit air, candle flames flickering in the background.

Harry smiled against the palm on his mouth. He looked back at her earnestly. “Of course, Gin. There is only you.”

So Harry said, when he hadn’t seriously thought about her for a while.

It wasn’t that Harry had any other woman in his mind.

(His head was too full of the Kingdom he’d inherited.)

NOTE: You can return to the story here!

* * *

After a couple of weeks, the King of Petra finally received a reply.

_Your Majesty_

_King Harold James Potter of the Kingdom of Petra,_

_Greetings from your loyal subject._

_It has come to my attention that recently, you have been requesting the hands of several pureblood daughters of marriageable age, myself included. I deeply apologise for being blunt, but please allow me to share my thoughts with you._

_No self-respecting pureblood daughter would willingly accept to be the_ **_concubine_ ** _of a nouveau-riche half blood. Even those whose family is in financial distress would still think twice about entering a hostile court. Before you widen your target to include foreign conservative pureblood Houses - not that I think they can serve the purpose you have in your mind - please, I beg you to stop humiliating yourself and Petra._

_I have heard that Your Majesty is just and values honesty. I beg forgiveness for my rude words. I implore Your Majesty to look beyond my brashness and see the intention behind my reply._

  
  


_Yours sincerely,_

_Pansy Parkinson_

Hermione blinked profusely when Harry showed her the letter. She gaped, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. “Wha- H-how dare she-!”

Harry himself merely laughed when he first read the letter. Compared to all the double-speak and fake politeness used by the nobles, Parkinson’s reply was certainly refreshing. Luna looked amused as well as she read the letter, while Neville cringed.

“Well…” Slughorn twitched, like he was suppressing his laughter. “Miss Parkinson certainly isn’t wrong… we are running out of suitable pureblood witches in Petra to ask for her hand…”

The committee fell into silence again.

“Your Majesty, forgive me… but have you considered pureblood wizards?” Shacklebolt broached.

Harry frowned. “...I would rather not. It’s not my…”

“You will have a more distant relationship with him than your relationship with Her Majesty, of course,” the Hand tried to persuade his King. Slughorn spoke the truth; they were hard-pressed to come up with even one more name of a suitable female candidate. “That’s fine. The Consort’s main job is to represent the conservative purebloods faction. You only need to be intimate with him maybe once… for consummation and an heir-”

“Draco Malfoy,” Hermione suddenly said.

Harry straightened up in his seat. It was a name that evoked many emotions.

Slughorn perked up as well. “An excellent suggestion,” he rubbed his chin. “If I recalled correctly, he had considerable influence even before he became a prefect… He could even be said to be the leader of his peers…”

Harry grimaced. “No, not Draco sodding Malfoy, please-”

“Why not?” Hermione snorted. “You were certainly obsessed with him in sixth year.”

Harry groaned and covered his face with his palm. “How many times must I tell you that I was only suspicious that he was plotting something! I was right, wasn’t I?” The fight fled from Harry when he remembered that the chain of events leading to Dumbledore’s death. He slumped like an unbearable weight was unloaded on his shoulders.

Draco Malfoy. The mere mention of the name used to be able to make him angry, even before Harry hit puberty and went through a phase where everything incensed him. The snobbish blonde boy had been a thorn in Harry’s side after the green-eyed boy was made Seeker in his first year in Hogwarts. The rivalry only intensified after the former Marquess Lucius Malfoy secured his only son and heir the Seeker position of Draco’s House through bribing the Quidditch team with luxury brooms. 

Yet, since Lucius Malfoy fell from King Voldemort’s grace because of his defeat in a guerilla attack from the Order of the Phoenix, Harry began to see Draco Malfoy as just a scared boy, trapped in a war that he did not truly want to be a part of, same as Harry.

The things they went through together… the Sectumsempra curse, the blonde refusing to identify Harry when Harry was captured by the snatchers…

Now, what Harry felt for the blonde couldn’t be summed into one word anymore. It was a complicated jumble of emotions. 

“Why did you suddenly think of him, anyways?” Harry said dismissively. In any case, his gut feeling told him that Harry would be better off not meeting Draco Malfoy.

Harry expected Hermione to shrug and offer another name, but she turned serious. “He owes you a Life Debt, doesn’t he?”

Shacklebolt and Slughorn stilled. They turned to the conversation between the King and one of his closest advisors with interest.

Harry was speechless.

“...I thought you’re against things like making others do things they’re not willing to.”

“Parkinson’s comment on financial distress just reminded me of it,” Hermione looked guilty, “It seems the marriage is a terrible prospect to them too… We’ll need to use everything in our disposal to realise this plan. I’m not telling you to coerce him… I am just laying the cards on the table.”

Shacklebolt hummed in thought. “Lady Granger isn’t wrong.” 

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “Do we even know whether he’s…” His cheeks turned red from embarrassment. “Whether he… likes...men?”

“Oh, does Your Majesty not know?” Slughorn looked surprised. “Draco Malfoy has been betrothed to Lord Li Syaoran, the heir of House Li from the Kingdom of Han, since before he started schooling in Hogwarts. He’s surely accepted the idea of being married to another wizard.”

Hermione blinked. “The same House Li that was the ruling family in the Tang dynasty almost a thousand years ago?” 

The Potions Professor nodded. “The very same.”

Harry blanched. “All the more this proposition has no merit for him,” he began to pace around the room. The King paled when he remembered about Draco’s mother. “Narcissa Malfoy… I owed her a Life Debt, too. She demanded that I pardoned House Malfoy…”

“And you have done that,” Hermione remarked confidently. “That, and Draco’s Life Debt to you are two separate obligations. Am I not right?” She turned to Shacklebolt and Slughorn, who both nodded, the latter more enthusiastically. 

The King succumbed to his bad habit of running his hand through his hair when he was stressing over something, messing the bird nest even further. “Aren’t there other people? Zabini or Nott?”

“Mrs Zabini is possibly the richest woman on earth. Forgive me for saying this, Your Majesty… but there is no compelling reason for Blaise Zabini to accept your proposal…” Slughorn looked apologetic as he offered his opinion.

Harry waved it off with a dismissive gesture. He had always preferred honesty to fake pleasantries.

“We do have a bargaining chip with Theodore Nott, though,” Shacklebolt continued.

Cantankerous Nott was still in house arrest. “... You mean his father?” Neville looked ill at ease. Like Theodore Nott, he only had one elderly living family left, that same elderly relative having raised him up from childhood. The idea of someone using his grandmother against him made him feel queasy. 

Slughorn looked reluctant too. “Young mister Nott is certainly clever, but he has always preferred to be solitary. I do not think he has the social abilities to represent the pureblood faction… and I frankly think the boy will be happier not to.” He rubbed his temple, “And please do not suggest Gregory Goyle. Just… don’t.”

Harry shuddered. “That is the one thing I agree with.”

A comfortable silence dawned upon the small committee which had been formed to select Harry’s Second Consort. Harry initially thought there was no need for a committee with such a ridiculous purpose, but the moment Hermione asked him who he would propose to, Harry came up with a blank. The committee had proved very useful indeed.

“Shall we write the letters, then?” Luna’s quip broke the bubble.

“Can we leave Malfoy’s and Nott’s letters to you, Harry?” Hermione stretched as she got up. “It’s great that we had a productive meeting today!”

“Sure,” Harry smiled wanly. “Thank you, everyone,” he said as he dismissed them. 

On one hand, he wanted to see the light at the end of the tunnel. To not feel the tension of quiet resentment and hostilities between the two factions anymore. On the other hand, the idea of marrying any of the Slytherin wizards they had identified was not appealing to him.

Well, he can’t have the cake and eat it too, can he?

* * *

Other than Malfoy and Nott, the committee also identified other eligible pureblood bachelors such as Marcus Flint, Terrence Higgs and Adrian Pucey. Slughorn strongly stressed that the Sacred Twenty-Eight was his preference, however. Specifically, Malfoy, to Harry’s chagrin.

Harry let his Scribe write an ordinary letter for Marcus Flint, not that much different from the letter he’d sent to the parents of pureblood daughters.

To Nott, after much deliberation, Harry wrote very frankly, ‘ _I have a proposal regarding Count Cantankerous Nott’s treatment following his suspected betrayal in Macnair’s attack. I would like to meet you for a discussion.’_ Simple and straight to the point.

Malfoy’s owl was considerably more difficult to write. Harry mulled over it for days, words forming and disintegrating in the back of his mind even as he attended morning assemblies and meetings with his subjects on various national issues…

In the end, he settled with, ‘ _I would like to meet with you to discuss the settlement of Your Life Debt.’_

Also simple and straight to the point. And cold.

Harry gave it to his owl without giving himself the opportunity to crumple the letter. By this point, he just wanted it over and done with.

There were no replies from Flint and Nott, but one morning, a majestic Eagle owl flew in from the window of his dining hall when Harry was having breakfast with Ginny, and swooped down, flapping its wide wings over plates of eggs, toasts and bacon.

The owl was caught by the guards before it could reach Harry, however. The majestic owl hooted indignantly as it perched on one of the chairs and fixed its ruffled feathers. The owl also helped itself to a plate of crispy bacon, golden eyes glaring at the guard who stepped forward to move it away from the dining hall.

The letter it carried was subjected to a variety of spells to test for curses and hexes, before it was declared safe and handed to the male monarch.

Harry could recognise the handwriting before he opened the seal.

“What business do you have with Malfoy?” Ginny said unhappily. She must have recognised either the owl, or the emblem on the hardened wax seal.

Harry didn’t reply. His heart was beating too loudly for him to hear anything else. He opened the letter quickly, like pulling a bad tooth.

_Your Majesty_

_King Harold James Potter of the Kingdom of Petra,_

_Greetings from your loyal subject._

_Please kindly allow me two moons to settle my affairs._

  
  


_Best regards,_

_Draco Lucius Malfoy_

Harry began to fret. He’d expected that the blonde would spew indignities and insult him like Lady Parkinson did, but the reply was just as short and cold as Harry’s owl. If anything, the blonde sounded… resigned. Like Harry was going to bid for his life.

Well… technically, the blonde wasn’t wrong.

“Harry!” Ginny demanded for her husband’s attention. “Did you ask for Malfoy’s hand? You’ve moved on to men now?”

Harry sighed inwardly. “Gin,” he reached out for her hand. “I’ve promised you that I won’t give my heart to anyone else, haven’t I?” His voice was placating. 

Ginny looked doubtful. “Not Malfoy! You always paid attention to him in school-”

“That’s because I had to stay alert for his tricks!” Harry gritted his teeth. _Why does everyone think he had a crush on Draco sodding Malfoy!?_

“Anyways, Shacklebolt said I probably only have to sleep with my Consort once, for consummation and an heir-”

Ginny’s face turned almost as red as her hair. “Once is once too many!” She yanked her hand away.

And swayed on her feet.

“Gin!” Harry quickly shot a spell to slow down her descent and cushion her fall. The Queen had fainted. 

Harry panicked. “Call a Healer!” He shouted at the guards. “Call Madam Pomfrey!”

The elderly matron of Hogwarts’ Hospital Wing looked unflappable as she ran diagnostic spells on his unconscious wife. Harry’s heart was in his throat throughout. He’d lost too many people in the war, he can’t-

“Congratulations, Your Majesty,” his paranoia was interrupted by a beaming felicitation from the Healer. “Her Majesty is pregnant!”

Molly and Ron, who’d rushed to the youngest Weasley’s bedside when they heard that she had collapsed, gasped. “My baby girl!” Molly teared. “My first grandchild will be from my youngest… oh my!”

Ron looked similarly overwhelmed. So much so that he forgot his resentment over Harry’s Second Consort. “I’m… I’m going to be an uncle, Harry,” his best friend held Harry’s hands in a tight grip, his voice quivering.

Harry himself couldn’t help the bubble of joy that had formed in the pit of his stomach. He loved children dearly and he’d always wanted a big family. “...and I’m going to be a father,” the realisation stunned him. “Oh my God!”

The knowledge spread through the entire Royal Castle within less than a day, and through the entire Kingdom the next day, after the news were covered in the Daily Prophet newspapers.

After the sheer loss of lives in the war, babies were good news. For a moment, everyone just seemed purely happy. 

Everyone, except the pureblood faction.

‘ _Of course, the prolific Weasley would ensure that the throne will pass to her children.’_

_‘Are the rumours that His Majesty is looking for a Second Consort from amongst the conservative purebloods true?’_

_‘I think so… I heard my friend’s daughter was asked for her hand…’_

_‘Who’s that friend? Why didn’t they just accept?’_

_‘...Are you serious? You have a son yourself, haven’t you? Why don’t you suggest him to His Majesty?’_

_‘... maybe His Majesty doesn’t have such inclinations?’_

And so the pureblood faction talked and speculated, none daring to sacrifice their own children.

Soon enough, the liberal faction was thinking of a comeback of their own. 

‘ _The search for His Majesty’s Second Consort should be postponed… it’s bad luck to marry someone else when one’s first wife is expecting…’_

_‘...I don’t think it can wait… Many purebloods are unsettled by the pregnancy. They fear that the child will entrench liberal interests in the Royal family…’_

_‘But… but it’s so disrespectful to the Queen-’_

The whispers all stopped when Draco Malfoy set foot in Petra’s Royal Castle.

* * *

Harry opened the doors that would lead him to his guests nervously. He took a deep breath, and steeled his nerves.

The blonde stood up and bowed in greeting as Harry entered, richly dressed in a high-necked green robe, the hems lined in gold embroideries of the Chinese Fireball and a giant wolf.

Malfoy’s grey eyes flickered as they met Harry’s. Perhaps, Malfoy was still not used to seeing Harry with black hair and having such a square face. Harry had looked a little different when he was in disguise in Hogwarts.

In turn, Harry took the sight in slowly, happy to note that the gaunt cheeks and black splotches were gone from the young man’s pale skin. It seemed he had recovered from the war… at least physically.

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” Malfoy said, perfectly polite. Ghost of memories of ‘ _Dursley,’_ spat by that very same mouth lingered in Harry’s mind. [1]

Harry shook his head off the cobwebs of his carefreer past. “Greetings, Lord Malfoy. Thank you for coming.”

The blonde’s companion rose to his feet. He was a slender Han Chinese man with the build of a swordmaster, his shoulders wide and his arms leanly muscled. Strands of tousled brown hair covered his dark eyes, which were framed by thick, strong brows. He was also dressed regally in green robes, the same shade and materials as Mafoy’s it seemed. The green was not the dark emerald of Slytherin green, but a vibrant viridian, like the leaves of oak trees in the height of summer.

Malfoy turned to the Han Chinese man. “Your Majesty, please allow me to introduce you to Lord Syaoran Li, the son and heir of Marchioness Yelan Li, the Matriarch of House Li from the Kingdom of Han.”

“Greetings, Your Majesty, I am so sorry to intrude upon Your Kingdom,” Lord Li said pleasantly in a slightly husky voice. His Petran wasn’t accented at all. Every part of his speech, mannerism and demeanor screamed high-class, privileged conservative pureblood. “I merely worry for my betrothed,” Li peered at Malfoy visibly.

Ah, of course Malfoy and Li knew what Harry was on to. It had become a public secret by now. The couple wasn’t beating around the bush.

“It’s fine,” Harry took a seat, and his guests followed suit. “How are Lucius and Narcissa? Are they living well in Han?”

Malfoy’s fists retreated under the wide brim of his sleeves. Harry suspected the blonde was clenching them tightly out of view. “Yes, Your Majesty,” his reply was calm and even. “Han’s temperate climate has always suited Mother better.”

Harry continued with small talk over tea for the next fifteen minutes or so. He could tell that with each second that passed, the blonde was becoming more and more unraveled. Halfway through the chat, his fiance had reached over to cover Malfoy’s pale hand with his own, his thumb rubbing over the blue veins below Malfoy’s knuckles. The smile Malfoy had returned him with was sincere.

Malfoy and Li appeared to have genuine affection for each other. In fact, they suited each other so well - the picture perfect pureblood couple, much like how Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were. The thought had strangely irked Harry, instead of making him sorry to break them apart.

The emotion that wreaked havoc under his rib cage bewildered Harry.

“Your Majesty,” Harry counted it as his victory that Malfoy caved in first, “I believe you mentioned in your letter that you would like to discuss about the settlement…”

Harry put down his cup with a clink against the porcelain saucer. “Yes,” he leaned back casually against his chair, every inch the King of a powerful Kingdom he was. “Well, I’m sure you didn’t need me to spell it out loud.”

_What a rude proposal,_ the thought crossed Harry’s mind, but he couldn’t help it. Malfoy always had the ability to turn Harry into his worst self.

Malfoy and Li turned to look at each other, conversing through their eyes. The sight only angered Harry even more. 

“Your Majesty,” they had decided that Li would plead their case, it seemed. “Draco has been promised to me for ten years. We have set our marriage date-”

“I’m sure you know, Lord Li,” Harry interrupted, flaunting that he feared no threat of war from the Han Kingdom, although deep in his heart, he truly didn’t want another war. Malfoy and Li didn’t know it was a bluff, though. “That the Life Debt gives no leeway with respect to such provisions. If Draco Malfoy is to refuse, you will be married to a dead fiance.”

Li looked alarmed, while Malfoy took a sharp breath. Malfoy’s expression changed, like he had seen Harry in a different light. For once, the blonde’s mind was clear for Harry to read, even without any legilimency whatsoever. ‘ _Who are you and what happened to the Dursley I used to know?_ ’

_‘The throne happened,’_ Harry wanted to snarl. Something simmered under his skin when he spied Malfoy and Li sharing worried looks, again communicating without words. Before Harry entered the drawing room, he had been very reluctant to invoke the Life Debt, preferring to wait for a response from Nott. Harry didn’t understand where all these came from… He didn’t still have any remnants of horcruxes in him, did he?

Malfoy pursed his lips to a white line. He turned to Harry to ask him questions. “Will divorce be allowed?”

Harry’s first knee-jerk reaction was, ‘No!’ He took a deep breath to calm himself. If he didn’t allow for it, Malfoy might eventually think of murdering Harry just to leave him. The current Malfoy may be incapable of murder, but people change. Harry did. “Yes,” he answered after a moment, “but it will be unilateral. You will have to convince me.” Harry raised his hand to stop the arguments forming in the blonde’s mouth. “I hope you are aware that the job of the Second Consort I am legalised to marry is to represent the interests of the conservative pureblood faction. The long-term goal is to remove the divide between Petra’s citizens, so that we can all live harmoniously without breaking into another civil war. Only after this duty is reasonably fulfilled, can the Second Consort divorce the King.”

Malfoy’s face almost lost all colours. “It’s a difficult goal that may not be realised within our lifetime.”

Harry’s eyes flashed. “Are you saying it’s not a goal worth pursuing?”

Malfoy shook his head silently, quiet as a mouse.

Harry tapped his fingers against the white tablecloth. “Is that all?”

When the blonde looked up again, his gaze was firmer. “I request for one of my children to be appointed to be the heir of House Malfoy.”

As Harry raised his eyebrow, the other wizard continued. “As Your Majesty is aware, currently I am the only son of House Malfoy. My bloodline will end if I do not produce any heir for House Malfoy. Sure, Mother is still fertile, but she is getting on in years… pregnancy will be tough on her…”

Harry eventually conceded. “But you will conceive with me… not any future pureblood lover you may or may not discreetly have,” he bared his teeth.

Malfoy’s gaze only turned puzzled.

They fell silent for a while before Li coughed. “Your Majesty, to avoid problems with illegitimacy and birthrights, usually the rituals for pureblood marriage prevents any pregnancy not conceived by the two parties in the marriage from occurring...”

Harry wanted to rub his temples. Another one of those customs only the secretive pureblood society knew. “I see,” he remarked curtly. “I will also require you to produce an heir for my dynasty. Let’s put into the contract that your first child will carry on the duchy of Gryffindor line, and your second child-”

“No,” Malfoy interrupted Harry for the first time during their meeting, but the blonde looked too horrified to notice. “Only magic can choose the heir. It’s not something dictated by the order of birth.”

Harry blinked. This was the first time he’d heard this. “...I see.” In any case, stipulating the minimum number of heirs for the respective Houses in the contract was enough. If Malfoy wanted to bear Harry more children, Harry would not complain.

The King was about to discuss other terms and conditions of the marriage, when Li cleared his throat.

“Your Majesty, House Li has a purpose for making the commitment to join with House Malfoy. It’s really hard for us to accept the turn of events…” the Han aristocrat spoke boldly.

Malfoy turned to Li with a hopeful look in his eyes, but Harry could read between the lines better without the history of a relationship with the oriental wizard.

“What compensation do you require?” He asked coldly. 

The blonde began to appear indignant, but Harry’s intuition was not wrong. Li looked apologetic as he stated his demands. “House Li does not wish for any money… but House Li also wishes for a child to be born from House Li and House Malfoy.”

Malfoy shot up to his feet. He looked positively broken from the betrayal. “I knew it,” his voice was breathy as he forced his words between his sobs and heavy breathing. “There is no way the Most Noble and Ancient House Li and the great Marchioness Yelan wanted to accept my tarnished family with open arms! Since the beginning, you have only been eyeing for my blood, the blessings of the stars running through House Bl-”

“No, Draco-” Li bravely wrapped his arms around the hissing and spitting blonde, despite the scratching and dangers of maiming. “My family has been so excited to welcome you as one of our Masters. Please, believe me-”

But Malfoy didn’t appear to be listening. “Now that you have the chance to reap the benefit - only the child - and get rid of the rest of us, of course, you would-”

“Little dragon, please!” Big, tanned hands cupped Malfoy’s pale and pointed face and held it close, foreheads pressing against one another. Tears were also streaming down Li’s face. “I’m sorry I have to protect the interest of my House. _Xiao Long_ , we want all of you and your family, we swear-” [2]

Malfoy stopped scratching Li’s hands and was openly crying now. The couple had forgotten Harry’s existence entirely. “W-wolf,” the blonde hiccoughed, “w-what if the child won’t have… it hasn't showed up in Mother and me… despite my name-”

“ _Xiao Long,_ ” Li kissed Malfoy’s temple as he caressed the other man’s platinum blonde hair. His touch was so tender. “I told you I don’t believe that it skipped you. I have faith-”

“But I’m so weak-” Malfoy buried his face against Li’s shoulder and hid more of himself underneath the wide sleeves of Li’s robes.

Harry exited the room wordlessly. 

He owed the couple some privacy for forcefully breaking them up.

* * *

Half an hour later, when Harry checked on them, Draco Malfoy remained behind alone, and he had regained his composure, despite the splotches of pink on his pale face. “I’m sorry you had to witness something so disgraceful, Your Majesty.”

For a moment, Harry was thrown back to the memory of Myrtle’s bathroom in sixth year, where Malfoy was also crying. Only this time, he wasn’t crying alone. He had Li.

“It’s fine,” Harry chased the irritation out of his head. “Let’s continue our negotiation.”

When Harry learned of the arrangement that Malfoy and Li had agreed to with regards to the compensation, his blood boiled.

“He’s the one who wants your child, he should be the one to carry it!” 

But Malfoy didn’t budge. “Your Majesty, my understanding is that time is of the essence to reassure Petra’s divided population,” he explained logically. “I have gone through the necessary rituals to prepare my body to be a carrier since the betrothal between House Malfoy and House Li was committed. I am fully ready to carry a child to term now, while it will take Syaoran eighteen months at the very least, before he can even be pregnant. And once I marry you through pureblood marriage rituals, I can’t father his child.”

It was Harry’s turn to wonder, _‘Who are you and what happened to the Malfoy I used to know? The whiny Malfoy who is a spoiled brat and afraid of pain?’_ Wasn’t childbirth supposed to be one of the most painful experiences imaginable?

And he was going to go through it at least three times. 

“I can still be your fiance while I’m carrying the child, Your Majesty. The pureblood faction will understand the importance of properly ending a betrothal, while still maintaining good relationships between the Houses.”

‘You don’t have to do this,’ was on the tip of Harry’s tongue, but Malfoy had made his stance clear. It was one of those pureblood things the liberal faction couldn’t understand.

So, with great reluctance, Harry agreed with his new fiance. “Do not make me regret this, Malfoy.”

The blonde only bowed with his head. “I will discuss the draft contract with my parents, Your Majesty. I’m sure you need to go through it with your subjects as well.”

Harry nodded. “Till next time,” he dismissed the blonde with a heavy heart.

The meeting didn’t go that badly. In fact, Harry managed to accomplish most of the things that he wanted to.

Yet, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d shaved off his humanity, layer by layer.

What would be left of him, in the end?

TBC

Please leave a comment... happy author will update faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Because Harry was kinda in hiding when he attended Hogwarts, he used the name Harry Dursley. Harry wasn’t famous like in canon, but he still developed a rivalry against Draco for being an opposing Seeker his age.
> 
> [2] Xiao Long means little dragon. Syaoran means little wolf, and Draco means dragon… so that’s their endearment for each other.


	3. A Worthwhile Investment Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas y'all!!
> 
> Sorry if the import of Genshin Impact characters came out of the left field. I've fallen into Genshin hell, so hard and fast, and there was no going back... RIP wallet!
> 
> Been listening to 'A Letter to Snezhnaya' and 'the Listener' on repeat when writing this chapter...

Several lunar cycles passed, and Draco Malfoy returned to Petra’s Royal Castle with a choker around his neck.

It was a beautiful piece of jewelry. The oval peridot that made its centrepiece was as big as a grape, vibrant and brilliant in its lustre, the warm olive green colour blending well with the rectangular diamond petals that surrounded the peridot in a ring, as well as the gold-plated ivies design of the velvet choker. The symbol of ‘李’ could be seen faintly through the clear jewel.

Harry twitched as the platinum blonde dropped to one knee and presented himself to the monarch in his court. The choker that marked him as carrying a child was too conspicuous. What an eyesore.

On the King’s right, his Queen was glaring hatefully at the man who was to be her husband’s second spouse. 

Harry sighed inwardly. The conversation to let her know not to show her displeasures so openly would not be fun...

“Greetings, Your Majesties. I am honoured to meet you. This humble subject wishes the Great Kingdom of Petra everlasting glory,” the pureblood wizard blithely carried on, purposely ignoring the stares from Harry’s wife and busybody courtiers.

“Rise,” Harry merely replied, “come here,” he beckoned the blonde to climb up the stairs. It was time to put the third throne, which had been placed onto the dais this morning and provoked a lot of interesting reactions, into good use. The court had not been this noisy since the very same blonde pureblood wizard dropped by with his prestigious former fiance in tow.

Everyone watched with much interest as Harry stood up, faced the taller blonde and slid a ring across his finger.

The committee had painstakingly deliberated over the best engagement ring - whether it should be one of the Potter’s family heirlooms or not, and if it’s to be a new custom made ring, what metal and gems should it be made of. Ginny’s ring didn’t even take longer than one day to settle; Harry had simply chosen one ring from the many gifts from the nobles for his ascension to the throne, a gold ring with big rubies and diamonds. 

Slughorn could not emphasise enough the importance of the ring’s symbolisms.

In the end, they settled for a platinum ring with watermelon tourmaline teardrop cut and tiny diamonds, the pink so dark it looked red. Unlike most tourmalines, there was no clear separation between the green and the pink colours [1]. The precious stone carried with it Harry’s wish for the future of Petra. 

“Welcome to Petra’s Royal Castle,” Harry spoke as he looked into those passive grey eyes, his voice sincere, “I hope this place can be your new home.”

Malfoy did not even spare the ring two seconds of his attention. He immediately curtsied, the shimmery midnight blue of his long robes gathered in pale milky hands. Harry’s eyes fixated on the top of his head as Malfoy replied, “Thank you, Your Majesty. I hope I can meet your expectations.” 

The interaction was so dry. There was no love lost between the two.

The blonde settled down at the third chair, the small throne at Harry’s left, and the morning assembly commenced.

It was not proper; at this point, Draco was just a fiance of the King. He had not been appointed as a Prince Consort. But Slughorn had suggested, and Shacklebolt agreed, that the gesture of commitment would be much appreciated. Nobody could afford the 9-month wait.

Evidently, after only a couple of weeks since Draco Malfoy entered Harry’s court, more than a handful of conservative purebloods had begun showing up regularly in morning assemblies. Of course, Slughorn had moved to Vawella, the capital of Petra. The Greengrasses too had returned from Kasha, although Astoria remained there. They were just the beginning. 

“Greetings, Your Majesty and Your Highness… No, I’m sorry. Greetings, Lord Malfoy,” Blaise Zabini gave a short bow, his voice cokesure, Cupid bow’s lips curled in a confident smirk. 

The pureblood wizard was not the kind to make such a simple mistake, but this wasn’t really the first time Harry heard others address the blonde as such. Harry let them go unpunished, because there was no point in disturbing the sense of ‘it was only a matter of time’ that was perpetuating amongst his subjects. 

“Blaise,” Malfoy replied amiably from Harry’s left at the dining table. He was dressed resplendently in dark maroon v-necked robes, a vest with golden embroideries that ended at his midriff hugging his torso. Recently, Malfoy had worn more and more of House Gryffindor colours, and clothes that had decidedly more feminine style; they were cinched at the waist and flared out to give the illusion of wider hips. Harry liked those, but he disliked the reminders of Malfoy’s pregnancy from the way he avoided wearing anything restrictive around his abdomen. “We’re happy to have you with us,” the blonde raised his glass of apple juice to toast the dark-skinned wizard, the tourmaline catching the light of the chandeliers, “Is your mother well?”

Zabini sat back down and raised his wine glass in response, humming approvingly after he sipped his beverage. The kitchen’s budget had more than doubled since Harry let Malfoy manage it, but it seemed to be money well spent. The hall was almost always filled to the brim with aristocrats nowadays, a stark contrast from when half of the invitations Harry sent out were declined.

“Oh, she’s killing it in Goryeo,” Zabini looked pleased as punch, “If you need any spices for your engagement party, we would be happy to supply you with high grade pepper! We’ll throw in chillies as well!”

“That would really help us,” Malfoy looked pleased too. One of his first few tasks was organising his own engagement party. Judging from how he had planned for and hosted his banquets so far, Harry wasn’t worried. “Shall we expect another happy announcement from your mother soon?”

Harry could literally hear everyone stop talking. Other guests turned to them discreetly, their curiosity plenty visible, although not to the point of being rude.

Coming from another person, Zabini might have found the question so rude and intrusive, but Zabini only laughed at his childhood friend. “Thankfully, not for the moment, no,” the handsome wizard shuddered.

“Oh?” Malfoy’s smile turned teasing, “I thought you’re running away,” he bantered.

Zabini grinned rakishly, his eyes glimmering with amusement. The Ladies stopped what they were doing for a moment and just stared. The only son of Mrs Zabini was really good looking - his jaw, his nose, his cheekbones, his brows, those lips - they were perfect. He was as chiseled as a statue. Even Hermione was staring, before she cleared her throat and looked down, cheeks turning pink. The sound of a glass being knocked came from Harry’s right.

“Is there anything I can hide from you, Draco?” Zabini flirted openly, his voice silky smooth like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

Harry blinked. He was about to open his mouth when Malfoy shot his childhood friend a deadpan stare. “Blaise…” he said warningly.

The dark skinned wizard dropped his persona and shook his head. “I can’t get over how fast you tie yourself down. I myself probably won’t have a child until I’m thirty, at least,” he leaned back on his chair languidly.

Malfoy only twisted his lips. “Well, I’ve known that I would have a child by twenty since I was a child myself.” One hand rested on his stomach unconsciously.

“Didn’t know the Li’s are so eager,” Zabini tilted his head back. “But anyways, you’re only half right, Draco.”

“...Oh?” For a moment, Malfoy had lost all the colours on his face. Harry straightened up in his chair in alarm, thinking that the blonde would lose the content of his gut to the floor again. His morning sickness had proved more violent and volatile than Ginny’s.

Thankfully, the urge seemed to have passed quickly. “Do tell, Blaise,” Malfoy continued as he fidgeted to a more comfortable position, that straight-backed posture discarded.

There was no way Zabini’s sharp eyes would not miss it, but the other pureblood wizard did not comment. He put down his wine glass and tapped the bottom casually as he remarked, “You have not chosen any aides or ladies-in-waiting, have you?”

Of course, Malfoy hadn’t. That was crossing the line a bit too much.

Blaise’s smirk widened. “I just know that sticking around you will be more interesting.”

There was an insult implied there somewhere, Harry thought, but Malfoy only accepted it breezily. “I’m glad my life amuses you, Blaise.”

Regardless, the outcome favoured Harry. “I echo Draco’s sentiment, Lord Zabini. We’re happy to have you here,” he raised his glass for an informal toast.

Zabini had barely finished returning the gesture when Harry saw Ginny rising to her feet.

“I’m tired, Harry,” the Queen rested her hand on the visible bulge of her stomach, covered by the cascade of a cornflower blue wool dress. It was almost the end of her second trimester, if Harry tracked correctly. Pregnancy suited her; she was glowing most of the time he saw her.

_I’m so blessed_ , the thought brought a smile to his face. “I’ll escort you.” The King put down his glass and turned to his guests. “I apologise...”

“Oh, do what you must, Your Majesty,” Viscount Cormac Mclaggen hollered. Harry had never quite liked the guy. “Lord Malfoy will entertain us plenty.”

_He is not yours to do as you bid_ , Harry nearly snarled, the viciousness of the thought surprising him.

A touch to his forearm brought him back to the redhead. “Your Majesty?”

Harry cleared his throat. “I’ll leave it to you, Draco.” They had agreed privately that Harry should call the blonde by his given name in public.

“Your Majesty,” the blonde nodded his acquiescence.

As Harry was musing over how he should get Malfoy to call him by his given name in public too, the King caught the sight of Ginny sending Malfoy what could only be described as a smug look.

The blonde caught it, but he did not appear perturbed. He merely turned to Daphne Greengrass to respond to what she said, as though what had transpired between him and Ginny didn’t occur.

( _And why should he be perturbed? They were after a much bigger purpose, weren’t they?_ )

* * *

More time passed. More conservative purebloods trickled back into Petra's court. The engagement party went on without a hitch. The guests, who were pleased that the pureblood traditions were appropriately included, had sung the praises of Malfoy, and by extension Harry. Ginny had looked unhappy in the weeks leading to the event and after. Harry and Ginny didn’t have much of an engagement, after all, let alone an engagement party. But she started to feel the baby kicking, and shortly thereafter Harry was spending most of his available free time kneeling by his wife’s side, with his hands pressed on her stomach and his lips against her skin, babbling nonsense to their baby.

To his first child.

Harry had dreamed about it for so long… soon. Any day now-

“Greetings, Your Majesty and Lord Malfoy,” Viscount Theodore Nott spoke respectfully from his knees, the familiar features of ash blonde hair and dark blue eyes barely registering into Harry’s mind.

His reply to Harry’s letter had come months too late, requesting for a meeting with Harry and Malfoy. The King thought unkindly that Theodore only made a move because he had to; it had just been decided that Count Cantankerus Nott would be administered a dose of veritaserum for his case to move along. It was still a highly unpopular decision and Malfoy had received some of the dirtiest looks he’d ever received from the pureblood faction. 

Malfoy himself had opined that the Aurors’ decision was unwise, but did nothing else when Harry didn’t budge. He came to morning assemblies as usual, accompanied Harry to functions with overseas dignitaries as usual and cooperated with Harry in managing various internal affairs and the Castle’s household matters as usual.

Ginny would have given him the cold shoulder for weeks.

“Rise,” Harry remarked indifferently before Malfoy could say anything. He didn’t want the blonde to be too lenient. Nott was one of Malfoy’s closest friends in Hogwarts. Not lackeys like Goyle or the late Crabbe, but a real friend. “Say what you have come to say.”

Theodore Nott remained on his knees. “Your Majesty, I am aware that my reply was far too late and I have slighted your goodwill. I come to you to remedy my mistakes,” when he finally raised his head, he sent his imploring gaze straight at Malfoy. “Lord Malfoy, you do not have an aide yet, do you? I offer everything, absolutely everything at my disposal to be of service to you.”

Harry felt tendrils of anger taking over his mind. He slammed his fist on the armrest of his throne. “How dare you-”

“Viscount Nott,” Malfoy interrupted, his voice colder than Harry anticipated. “You seem to be very confident that I even want you as my aide in the future.”

Harry blinked and turned to stare at the wizard on his left.

Malfoy looked composed in his exquisitely-made garnet-coloured robes, the large sleeves draped over his lap, his fine shoulder-length hair braided in silver beads decorated with rubies. With a start, Harry realised it had been a while since he had looked at the blonde closely. Malfoy was finally visibly pregnant, his lower stomach protruding in an unmistakable way. The distasteful peridot choker remained an eyesore, but that did not detract from how much Malfoy looked like an Ice Queen. 

Cold fury was ablaze in his grey eyes, his gaze so frosty it seemed if he could cause Nott’s limbs to drop off from frostbite with a look, he would.

( _Harry supposed Malfoy was smart enough to have figured out that if Nott had agreed to be Harry’s Second Consort, Malfoy wouldn’t have to be in his current predicament. Malfoy wouldn’t have to leave Li._ ) 

Theodore Nott looked taken aback. Fear for his life was apparent on his face for a moment, before he bowed again so low his forehead nearly touched the floor. “Your Majesty, Lord Malfoy, I swear that I am committed to you! In fact, I have a present that proves my devotion!”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Let’s have it,” the sarcasm was clear in his voice, his disbelief that young Nott could offer anything of use apparent.

Theodore’s dark blue eyes looked feverish even as he reported with fake calmness, “Lord Malfoy, your former great-uncle-in-law to be… Zhongli and his lover… They are in Petra! [2]”

As Harry and everyone else in the hall frowned in confusion, all traces of anger and resentment left Malfoy’s face. 

His grey eyes widened in surprise. “Great-uncle-in-law!? Are you sure? Where are they?”

Young Nott looked relieved to be having Malfoy’s attention. “Of course, the suburbs of the city with the best climate in Petra… Mesaro.”

Malfoy rose to his feet and began to pace around the small dais. It was rare to see him this agitated. “What… how… why? Last time I heard, Great-uncle-in-law and Childe are in Yamato…”

Yamato… an island Kingdom not unlike Petra, located in the Far East, further than even Han Kingdom.

Theodore Nott gingerly rose to his feet, holding his breath until nobody told him to get down again. “Shogun Oda Nobunaga was assassinated by Lord Mitsuhide Akechi,” he explained hurriedly. 

Understanding finally dawned upon Malfoy’s expression. “Of course…” He sat back down on his throne like his knees had lost the strength to carry his weight. “Of course that led to a succession crisis. His heir isn't exactly…”

The room was engulfed in the whispers of other courtiers as thoughts raced furiously in Malfoy’s head. Harry could read it from his preoccupied eyes.

"Well, their loss is our gain," Malfoy seemed to have come to a decision quickly. “Theo,” his voice cut through the noise, shutting everyone up.

“I’ve prepared the necessary gifts,” Viscount Nott snapped to attention. A House Elf popped into existence next to him, carrying an open chest with glass bottles of clear liquids and a well-shaped turquoise vase inside it. “I have procured the Silk Flower Three Poignant Perfumes from Scent of Spring shop in Han, as well as the most beautiful Glaze Lily imprinted porcelain I’ve seen.” He handed the chest over to Malfoy for his inspection.

“Hmm,” the blonde nodded, the items passing his keen discerning eyes for quality. “Blaise,” he called the other pureblood aristocrat without looking at him.

“The most beautiful Cor Lapis and Noctilucous Jade I’ve seen, right? No worries, I’ll bring them to you by tomorrow,” Zabini responded timely like clockwork, his mind in tune with his former classmates’. “If you’ll excuse me,” he departed from the hall then, headed for the closest apparition point it seems.

“Your Majesty,” as Harry was still trying to figure out what was going on, Malfoy leaned closer to the King, his posture subservient, “Your Majesty, may I propose that we go on a short trip?”

Harry blanched. “To visit this... former Great-uncle-in-law of yours?” He asked incredulously. Ginny was so close to giving birth; he didn’t want to be away from _his family_ for a while, especially not for… not for this man he knew not of-!

“Your Majesty, please,” Malfoy’s voice trembled. Harry was shocked by his pleading gaze. In the months they worked together in governing Petra, Malfoy had never begged Harry for anything, not even for allowing Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy to return. “With portkeys, it’ll only be a day-trip at most…”

Harry looked down at Malfoy’s belly. “It’s not advisable when you’re pregnant,” it wasn’t his kid, but Harry was concerned. He told himself it was just because if Malfoy had a miscarriage, he would have to try for Li’s child again, and set back their marriage by another 9 months. "Why can't we invite him here instead?"

Malfoy didn't reply, but Harry had learned to read the meaning of silence.

This person was more important and more powerful than the King of Petra.

Harry shook his head in disbelief inwardly. Still, he tried to reason. “Can’t this visit wait…?”

The blonde shook his head stubbornly. “It’s because I’m pregnant with Syaoran’s child now, that we have to go now.”

Harry frowned. _Why?_

Harry and Malfoy stared at each other fixedly, neither side budging, before Harry decided to be the one taking a step back. There was still a few weeks’ margin to Ginny’s due date. “I’ll trust you this time, Draco.”

Malfoy’s face brightened. “I won’t let you down, Your Majesty,” his pitiful mien transformed to that of determination. “Get me Ulysses!” He turned to the guards and ordered them to bring the blonde’s eagle owl to him. The blonde stood up and made to leave, presumably to prepare for the trip, but before he reached the door, he surprised Harry again by bowing his head to Luna and Hermione. “Lady Lovegood and Lady Granger, may I please request you to join this short trip as well? I think Gre… Lord Zhongli is a knowledgeable man whose presence you will enjoy.”

Luna looked pleasantly surprised to be invited. “Sure, Draco,” she replied casually. Luna claimed that Malfoy had been kind to her during her captivity in Malfoy Manor and she had treated him like a friend since he joined Harry’s court. It was Malfoy who maintained a distance with her, seemingly afraid of the dreamy former Ravenclaw student. Harry didn’t care as long as Malfoy treated Luna with respect.

Hermione had perked up. “Oh, is he a scholar from Han?” 

Malfoy threw his gaze to the side. “...of sorts.”

It seemed fishy, but Hermione was excited, nevertheless. “Thank you, Lord Malfoy. I’ll be sure to join.”

Malfoy nodded. “Thank you.”

As soon as he left, the hall broke into whispers again.

_‘Zhongli? Who is that? I have never heard of the name…’_

_‘Did Lord Malfoy say ‘Childe’, though? As in, ‘Childe’, the codename of the Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui?’_

_Someone laughed. ‘The elite Aurors of the former Snezhnaya Empire? Weren’t they just bogeymen invented to scare children into obedience?’_

_‘Hey, speaking of Zhongli… didn’t King Voldemort also have a private audience with a man named Zhongli?’_

_‘Oh, was that… when Wormtail lost his arm-’_

There was no bringing order to this chaos. Harry decided to leave the assembly.

Would they really be guests to such controversial and notorious people? 

Harry hoped he wouldn’t regret his decision. 

* * *

A fair-skinned man, seemingly in his twenties, was standing next to the windowsill, staring at the scenery outside the building pensively. His gold eyes seemed timeless, and unlike anything seen in any other humans. He was dressed in elaborate black robes, the collars and sleeves hemmed in silver ivies, intricate geometric rectangular patterns embroidered on his coat, and the tails had patterns not unlike the scales of a majestic giant dragon. He had beautiful square-cut ambers as the buttons of his vest and the brooch of his tie, the same shade as the tips of his long, silky raven hair. The man was so beautiful even flowers would cower in shame. [3]

“Zhongli xian sheng,” a younger looking auburn haired man in what seemed to be black and grey military uniform interrupted the amber-eyed man’s musing. The red scarf around his neck seemed old and tattered, but the redhead didn’t seem to mind any one bit. “There’s an owl for you.” 

The beautiful man turned to his companion. “What does it say?” His voice was deep and slightly husky, as wise and timeless as his gaze. He trusted the redhead enough to let him open his letters.

The younger man did so… and cocked his head. A cold smirk crossed his face. “As expected.”

Zhongli tilted his head too, causing the tassel earring on his left ear to brush his cheek. “Childe?”

“It’s nothing,” the redhead swaggered to the beautiful man and wrapped his arm around that slender black-clad waist. “We ought to spruce this mansion up a bit.” 

“We’re going shopping?” Zhongli looked pleasantly surprised. He was always happy to peruse through wares.

“Yes,” Childe didn’t even spare a thought at his wallet. He was used to it by now. They had been together for a long, long time after all. 

“We need to make this mansion fit for a visit from the King and his fiance, after all.”

TBC

A/N: Merry Christmas! Your comments would be lovely presents to me!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Something like this? https://www.shinyjunglejewellery.com/listing/620184760/watermelon-tourmaline-ring-bi-color
> 
> 2) Help, I have fallen into Genshin fever!!
> 
> 3) I credit the line to this post: https://twitter.com/mintaiey/status/1341932348506578944


	4. A Worthwhile Investment Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 300+ hits on chapter 3's release! Arigatou gozai masu! I'll be even happier if you can leave kudos and comments ^^

‘ _That’ll surely put a dent in the treasury,_ ’ was Harry’s thought when he saw the blue gem Malfoy was inspecting in his hands.

Two years ago, Harry had no eye for quality at all, but after ascending the throne, and especially months of Malfoy dragging Harry into trade negotiations with merchants of goods, luxury items and commodities alike, the King would like to think that he was now at least able to tell apart expensive and cheap things.

As the blonde was occupied, Harry sidled closer to Hermione. “What have you been able to find out?”

“Good morning to you too, Harry,” the brunette said idly. She’d always been saying that Harry had gotten more and more rude the longer he’d been King. “Did you have a good sleep?”

“Not quite…” Harry went along with his best friend’s antics. She wasn’t wrong either. “How about you?”

“I barely slept at all,” Hermione’s cheerful tone was at odds with her words. “There is just so much to read about Snezhnaya, I could only skim the surface-.”

“About Lord Zhongli,” the King quickly interrupted before his friend blathered on and on. When Hermione got into this mode, he could give her a 3-hour guest lecturer slot at Hogwarts and she would still have things to say by the end of it. 

Petra’s smartest witch of their generation sighed. “I couldn’t find out much about him other than that he married Guizhong Li, the older sister of the previous Marchioness, Ningguang Li, around fifty years ago. Before that, he was said to have worked at the prestigious Wangsheng Funeral Parlour. Lady Ningguang is the mother of the current Matriarch Yelan. Guizhong died fifteen years ago. The couple was childless. Zhongli stayed with House Li for about a few more years before he just…disappeared.”

Harry frowned. There were so many things he wanted to ask. “Lady Ningguang inherited the title even though she had older siblings? Was Lady Guizhong… ill?” _A squib?_

“It wasn’t mentioned,” Hermione shrugged. “This sometimes happens in pureblood Houses. I’m not sure why.”

Harry suddenly remembered Malfoy. ‘ _Only magic can choose the heir._ ’ 

His eyes inadvertently turned to the blonde, who was still preoccupied with the blue rock.

“...How about the Harbingers?” Harry forced himself to focus.

Hermione brightened. This research seemed to have been more successful. “Snezhnaya’s army, the Fatui, did have a group of elites called the Harbingers… but from the accounts I read, rather than Aurors, they… functioned more like Unspeakables. They were elite spies, rather than elite commanders… except the last Eleventh Harbinger, codenamed ‘Childe’ for being the youngest to earn the title of a Harbinger. His battle prowess was legendary. The mere mention of his codename struck fear in the hearts of many.” 

“Snezhnaya collapsed over a decade ago right?” Harry didn’t understand. “If Snezhnaya had such powerful protectors, just how did it collapse?”

Now Hermione looked annoyed. “I can’t find any details on that either… but rumours say Snezhnaya destroyed herself from within.”

Harry shuddered. 

That was the one fate he wanted Petra to avoid at all costs.

“I was also able to find not just one, but a pair of identical, well-extracted Cor Lapis,” Zabini’s proud proclamation made it into Harry’s ears, now that his conversation with Hermione had ended.

“Hmm…” Malfoy looked pleased as he eyed the pair of gold earrings on his gloved palm. “Good job, Blaise.”

The smug look on the dark-skinned pureblood wizard made Harry step forward. “Are we ready?” 

Only then, the King noticed that Malfoy wasn’t wearing just any green robes; he was wearing the green robes he’d worn when he brought Lord Li along to meet with Harry for the first time all those months ago, the high-necked silk with golden dragon and wolf embroideries. Now that Harry was aware that Syaoran meant ‘little wolf’, he strongly objected to this attire. 

Harry opened his mouth. “What-”

The words died in his mouth when Malfoy put his hand on the lapels of his black robes, his brows creasing. “Your Majesty, would you mind?”

‘Mind what?’ Harry wanted to ask, but Malfoy didn’t wait for an answer in the first place. Harry felt the blonde’s deft fingers pinning something onto his collar, near his breast pocket.

It was an exquisite brooch in the shape of a lily, the white enameled petals tastefully dotted in tiny diamonds. The craftsmanship was so superb the flower looked delicate, despite being made of unyielding precious stones.

Malfoy looked pleased. “That’s better.”

For some reasons, Harry’s cheeks felt warm. He didn’t know why; it wasn’t the first time Malfoy made some modifications to Harry’s outfit. Whenever they had to attend an event hosted by conservative purebloods or foreigners with strong pureblood culture, Harry always had Malfoy check the appropriateness of what he wore. 

The strange moment was broken when Luna arrived. “I’m sorry I’m late.” For once, the witch was dressed not in whimsical bright coloured robes and her favourite pink armadillo earrings. She wore form-fitting baby blue dress-robes that matched her eyes, and her flowy pale blonde hair was loosely braided and secured with a gold pin. She looked like a doll.

Malfoy gave her a once-over and nodded in approval.

“You look beautiful,” it was Zabini who voiced out what was in everyone’s mind.

“Oh, thank you,” Luna smiled, “it’s all because of Draco.”

Something stung under Harry’s ribcage. 

The blonde just wanted everything to be perfect for this visit to this important person.

“It’s almost time,” Harry picked up a long wooden cane, the portkey that had been prepared for the trip. “Let’s go,” he said brusquely.

* * *

The mansion did not look like anything out of the ordinary from the gates, but once Harry stepped in, he was surprised by the interior.

The hallways were filled to the brim by beautiful and exotic decorations, from things that hung on the walls and ceilings, like tapestries and lanterns, to items that could be placed on the floor or tables. The rugs, the vases, even tablecloths - they all looked luxurious and exquisitely designed. Gold lacquer and embroideries gleamed everywhere, depicting various motifs of dragons and phoenixes. It was hard to believe that the occupants of this mansion only recently moved in. It was like a hoarder’s paradise.

Harry and Hermione were looking around with wide eyes. Luna looked absently fascinated, as she always did. Malfoy, Zabini and Theodore Nott were expressionless.

“Welcome, Your Majesty,” a gravelly deep voice spoke, and Malfoy dropped into a curtsy straight away, followed by the other two purebloods. 

Harry turned to the source of the voice, and inhaled sharply.

The man descending down the grand staircase at the entrance hall was possibly one of the most beautiful men Harry had ever seen. His black long hair with yellowish tips looked silky smooth, smoother than Malfoy’s hair on some days. His oriental face was slim and defined, his nose and lips delicate. Yet the most striking thing about him were his eyes, so amber they looked gold, gorgeously framed in what appeared to be red eyeliners. His clothes were elaborately designed, yet they didn’t distract from his beauty at all. The sharp lines only accentuated his slender build and long limbs. The man simply looked… fascinating.

“Long time no see, Great-Uncle-in-law,” Malfoy replied reverently, his head remaining bowed as the Han Chinese approached. “I am glad that you seem well.”

Harry blinked… the striking man was… Zhongli himself!? Harry had thought he was the butler, or another guest of Zhongli. From all accounts, Zhongli should be at least seventy years old, but the man in front of them only appeared to be in his twenties… Even early thirties was stretching it. 

But there was something about the man’s aura that reminded Harry of Dumbledore. It was timeless… and there was also a tiredness to him, something that had seeped into the bones and weighted down his posture. 

‘ _Disillusion charms? Why bother?_ ’

Meanwhile, Zhongli was staring at Malfoy in surprise, as though he wasn’t expecting to see such a familiar face. “You are.. Yelan’s son’s fiance. Or… former fiance, rather.” Those amber eyes zeroed in on the prominently displayed peridot choker, and then dropped to Malfoy’s protruding belly. “The child you’re carrying… is still of Li blood.”

“Yes, Great-uncle-in-law,” Malfoy latched onto the connection immediately.

Technically, they weren’t family anymore, if ever at all. Zhongli is a childless widower of House Li who had left, and Malfoy didn’t even marry into House Li.

Zhongli’s expression turned pensive. “I see… Yelan’s prophecy…” he murmured.

Malfoy twitched infinitesimally, but he remained silent. “Prophecy?” It was Harry who voiced the question. He was really not fond of prophecies that turned people’s lives upside down.

For a second, Zhongli looked troubled.

It was Malfoy who saved him. “Your Majesty, maybe you heard wrongly,” the blonde pasted a smile on his face. Harry recognised that mask; he’d seen it not budge under the onslaught of threats and insults. “Great-uncle-in-law, I would like to introduce you to the King of Petra.”

“Please forgive me for my rudeness earlier. Nice to meet you. I am Harry, son of James and Lily Potter,” the King gave a polite nod. 

“It’s an honour to receive you in my home, Your Majesty.” Harry noticed Zhongli’s eyes straying to the lily brooch on his lapels when the monarch introduced himself, and those amber eyes turned soft.

There was a history there Harry knew not of. Malfoy had worked very hard indeed to endear them to Zhongli.

Malfoy proceeded to introduce the rest of their entourage, before Zabini and Nott brought out the chests. “Great-uncle-in-law, I’ve brought some gifts that reminded me of you. I hope you’ll like them,” the hope in the blonde’s face and voice was genuine.

“Oh?” Zhongli looked delighted. His face didn’t let out much, but somehow, he wore his heart on his sleeves. “That’s so thoughtful of you, Cousin-in-law.”

They were brought into the drawing room, which was as exotically decorated as the entrance hall.

“Scent of Spring’s Three poignant perfumes? It’s been so long…” Black-gloved hands handled the crystal bottles carefully. Zhongli’s smile was nostalgic, and wistful. “Thank you so much, little dragon…”

Other gifts were appreciated more enthusiastically, each accompanied with bright eyes and a monologue. 

“This Noctilucous jade has such a beautiful shade of translucent blue…” 

“Pasting a glaze lily to wet glaze before it was fired in the kiln? Fascinating. The flower turned to ash, but its shape is forever retained. Such genius…”

“Cor Lapis is itself hard to gather… It must have taken true skill indeed to unearth two pieces so alike…” [1]

“You’re too generous, Cousin-in-law.” Malfoy seemed happy that Zhongli was pleased with his gifts. Viscount Nott looked visibly relieved to be out of the woods. “Please, do stay over for lunch.”

The meal was a banquet fit for a King, indeed. Courses upon courses of delicious, sumptuous dishes were heaped onto Harry’s plate… shrimp dumplings, roasted boar, a soup of bamboo shoots and slices of pork belly that melted in one’s mouth… another soup with really rich broth made of crab, shrimps, ham and the most fragrant mushrooms… a consomme made of thinly sliced layers of ham, flavourful shredded chicken and mushrooms… fried rice made of… berries? And crunchy pieces of a type of nuts-

“They are lotus seeds,” Zhongli answered Hermione’s musings indulgently. “They have plenty of health benefits, for the heart and digestion. They help manage the disease of too much sugar in your blood. Rumour has it they also have anti-aging effects.”

“Is that why you look so young?” Luna asked innocently.

Zhongli laughed. “Well… I do eat a lot of lotus seeds in my diet.”

Malfoy smiled as he deftly brought the thin slices of bamboo shoots to his mouth with his chopsticks (unlike Harry, who had to ask for a fork and a knife). He looked like things had gone according to his plans.

As they continued to eat, Zhongli noticed Hermione eying the huge kite hung on the wall. It was bird-shaped and made of colourful silk, not the usual paper. “There are many debates about the origins of kites,” he started conversationally. Whenever he spoke, he always held the ladies’ rapt attention. Harry understood why; the man was just so knowledgeable. He was like a walking encyclopedia with a soothing deep voice. “However, there was a common folklore from the southern continents…”

Half an hour later, when they were enjoying their desert, almond tofu - mildly sweet and really smooth in the mouth - Zhongli was still engrossed in discussions with Hermione.

“We must meet again!” Hermione looked at the older man with bright eyes. She looked like she was on the verge of just grabbing his hands. “How about I invite you to my house for tea?”

Harry peered at Malfoy discreetly, worried that she was being too forward, but the blonde only looked on with approval. 

Indeed, Zhongli replied with a genuine smile. “I will be delighted.” 

Only then, Malfoy opened his mouth. “Thank you very much for lunch, Great-uncle-in-law. It has been a treat.”

“I’m glad they’re to your taste,” Zhongli looked content as he sipped his tea. The beverage smelled faintly of lilies.

“...I noticed there were no spicy dishes,” Nott spoke. Malfoy looked alarmed. “I heard you like them. If you don’t mind, may I please give you these?” He opened a box of red peppers which flared out at the bottom like flower petals.

“Jueyun chilli,” Zhongli muttered. Unlike with other gifts, he seemed as though grief had swallowed him. “Xiangling loved to cook with Jueyun chilli…” his gold eyes looked like they were heartbroken.

Malfoy’s panic was nearly visible on his face. “Great-uncle-in-law-”

Through the haze of his own panic, Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck rising. Suddenly, he felt as though he was back at the battlefield, about to face off Fenrir Greyback, Bellatrix Lestrange, or even Voldemort himself - a mass of murderous intent concentrated in a ball of crazy. A sense of danger was urging him to stand up and whip out his wand, all manners be damned.

“Zhongli xian sheng,” an unfamiliar baritone voice rang through the dining room, young and playful, yet hiding the edge of a razor under the thin veneer of a velvet sheath. “It’s mean of you to have started without me.”

Harry turned to the source of the voice sharply.

The man standing at the door frame was tall and gangly. He had orange hair and blue eyes. At one glance, he did not look all that different from a Weasley - like Bill, or Charlie, maybe - but once Harry looked closer, he realised the man’s blue eyes were darker, and they hid monstrous darkness within. Not unlike the stormy seas, where Hydra and Kraken lurked. All of Harry’s senses were working overtime.

“Lord Tartaglia,” Malfoy greeted the newcomer from his feet, one hand cradling his stomach protectively. His stance was wary, despite the way he kept straightening himself to hide his nervousness.

The man in the black and grey coat swaggered into the dining room. Ron would never be half as sure of his footing. The ginger lookalike grinned and tilted his head, causing the red mask perched on his head to reflect the sunlight streaming in through the glass windows. He was incredibly well built, the starched coat hiding none of the lean muscles on his arms, or his abs, which were showing through the partings on his stomach. “Draco Malfoy,” he replied, without titles, without endearments.

He didn’t even greet Harry, the highest ranking person in the room.

Before Harry even came to a decision on how he should react, the chance had come to pass.

“Childe,” Zhongli’s face transformed at the sight of the newcomer. He cheered up, all previous melancholy gone. “I’ve saved them for you, of course. Xiao!”

The servant whose arms were covered in detailed green markings entered with a huge tray of food skillfully balanced on his hands. From the dizzying array of colours, it did appear that one portion of everything Harry had eaten was there.

Childe Tartaglia picked up his chopsticks, which were lacquered in gold and looked very different from the ones Malfoy, Zabini and Nott were using, with relish. The redhead put the red scarf that had looked like a bloody wound across his torso out of the way. He clapped his hands together and exclaimed. “I will partake!” 

Harry wondered how they were going to suffer through the awkwardness of sitting around waiting for one person to finish eating, but the redhead gobbled up his food quite quickly. It also helped that Zhongli never ran out of words to say.

“Cousin-in-law has brought such marvellous gifts,” the amber-eyed man showed them off one by one. “Isn’t he just so thoughtful?”

“Hmm,” Tartaglia eyed the blue gem and gold earrings calculatively. Zhongli had appreciated them for their quality and beauty, but Tartaglia looked like he was very much aware of their worth. “Thank you, Draco Malfoy,” he turned to the blonde and said warmly, but Harry didn’t feel any warmth.

“I’m glad that you like them,” from the way Malfoy suppressed his shudder, he didn’t either.

As the redhead was finishing his food, he made a show of looking out of the windows. “Zhongli xian sheng, it’s time to water the Glaze Lilies, don’t you think?”

Zhongli also turned to the windows. “...Indeed,” he looked at his guests apologetically. “I’m sorry, I have to handle the chore personally. The flowers are very sensitive and temperamental…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll entertain them!” Tartaglia chimed in eagerly. “I’d like to know your relative as well!”

Harry didn’t want to be left behind with this shark, but Malfoy looked like he’d anticipated it, even welcomed it. “Please don’t worry, Great-uncle-in-law.”

Zhongli smiled. “Thank you for your kind understanding…”

“Lady Lovegood, Lady Granger, Lord Zabini and Young Lord Nott, perhaps you’d like to join Great-uncle-in-law?” Malfoy shocked Harry with the question.

_What? Why?_ Harry had come to rely on Hermione tremendously over the war. He didn’t want to be with such a dangerous person without her.

Malfoy only continued to smile. “The care of Glaze Lilies can be quite fascinating.”

“Indeed,” Zhongli opened up to the idea. “It’s a good idea, Cousin-in-law.”

Hermione exchanged a glance with the King. The witch pursed her lips. She seemed torn. “I’d like to stay...”

Thankfully, Zhongli didn’t look disappointed. “I’ll show you next time.”

That… was a little unexpected. “Thank you, milord,” Hermione responded happily. 

The moment the black-haired Han Chinese left, it felt as though the temperature of the room had dropped by ten degrees.

Tartaglia walked to the chest of gifts and picked up the Noctilucous jade with disinterest on his face. He’d abandoned all notions of pretense. “Such a fine gem must be expensive, huh?” the redhead sneered. “Zhongli xian sheng has an eye for quality but he does not know the value of money. He’s never had to use money; he’s lived his life exchanging favours with the powerful and the rich, who take care of all his expenses for him. You know that, don’t you, Draco Malfoy?”

Malfoy didn’t nod. He merely kept an eye on the redhead, who was prowling around the room like a big cat closing in on a prey.

“I, on the other hand, understand very well the value of money,” Harry tensed when Tartaglia leaned over the blonde. “And I know… expensive gifts are _never_ free.”

The King wrapped his fingers around his wand in his pocket, and Tartaglia snapped his head at Harry with a hiss, his teeth bared. The air around him was highly charged with magic, so dense with it that blue sparkles were starting to form-

“Your Majesty, stop,” Malfoy’s voice was shaky, and his face was pale, but he never averted his eyes from the red-haired monster in front of him. “You’re right, Lord Tartaglia. There is something we would like to ask of you.”

“Oh?” He straightened up, putting a tiny bit more of distance away from Harry’s fiance. “Let’s have it, then,” he gestured.

Malfoy peered up at the tall, tall man. “I’m sure you know about the current situation at Petra.”

Tartaglia met his stare coldly, his eyes looking down as though saying, ‘Go on.’

“It’s beneficial for both of us,” Malfoy spoke faster, desperation starting to tinge his tone. “There is a reason why both of you came to Petra, and not Kesha, or Goryeo.”

Harry was lost. He never liked it when aristocrats beat around the bush, relying on implied meanings instead of being direct.

The green-eyed wizard turned to his best friend. At first, she looked equally lost, but as Malfoy went on, understanding began to dawn on her.

Tartaglia continued to look down coldly at Malfoy. Seconds crawled unbearable slowly at a snail’s pace, until the silence was broken with a snigger.

Harry tensed when a gloved hand moved to Malfoy’s face, but Tartaglia was only patting Malfoy's head. “You’re as smart as they say.”

Everyone heaved a sigh of relief inwardly when the redhead moved away to the windowsill. He stood there watching what Harry assumed to be Zhongli, outside in the garden. For once, his blue eyes did not look cold; it was as though the permafrost had thawed. The King stood to attention again when Tartaglia shifted his gaze to Hermione. “I accept your down payment, Lord Malfoy.”

All the tension leaving his body, Malfoy appeared to have lost the strength to remain on his feet. He dropped to his chair, his breathing laboured. As the blonde clutched his chest, he forced out through his lips. “Thank you, Lord Tartaglia.”

Tartaglia’s smile as he leaned on the windowsill still looked like it could devour Malfoy whole. “I look forward to your invitation.”

* * *

“Time flew by so fast,” Zhongli said sincerely as he was sending his guests off at the entrance hall. It was unbelievable how well Tartaglia behaved when he was with the amber-eyed man; like he was a harmless kitten, instead of the tiger he was.

“We didn’t get to know each other very much, when I visited Syaoran the summers when we were children. I’m glad I have the chance to get to know you better now, Great-uncle-in-law,” Malfoy bowed. Some colours still had not returned to his face.

The golden light of the sunset streamed into the room, illuminating them. The smile on Zhongli’s face looked so precious it could stop someone’s heart. “It’s been a while since I enjoyed myself like this.”

The black-haired man stepped closer, taking off his gloves as he walked.

“Milord?” Harry wasn’t alarmed, but he was surprised when Zhongli placed his bare hands on top of Malfoy’s pregnant belly.

“ _Tianqin,_ ” he suddenly said, his amber eyes luminous; they were glowing like fireflies. “May God bless you.” [2]

Malfoy looked at Zhongli wide-eyed with disbelief, before his grey eyes turned glassy. Tears fell down his cheeks freely. “Y-you remember...” the blonde, whose composure did not break under Tartaglia’s heavy stare, started to sob.

“It’s House Black’s tradition to name their children after star constellations, right?” Zhongli remarked serenely. “May she fly as freely as celestial birds, and shine as brightly as Ursa Major.”

Malfoy blinked profusely, but the effort was futile. The sobs quickly turned to waterfall. He curled into himself. “T-thank you. I-I si-simply c-can’t th-thank you enough-”

Harry stepped closer to his fiance, his arms flapping about, not sure what to do. But Zhongli beat Harry to it. “Sshh,” he took the blonde into his arms, and rubbed his back kindly. 

“Everything will turn out alright, little dragon.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk why I write Geo Daddy Zhong like he's Luna Lovegood. Knowledgeable on most things but also an airheaded himbo. Is my impression of him correct? haha...
> 
> If this chapter leaves your with more questions than answers... it's because I'm sulking.
> 
> 1) The lines were quoted from Genshin Impact’s Character Tales - "Zhongli: An Additional Expense", https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvCzYbVei04&t=21s 
> 
> 2) 天禽 Tiānqín, meaning celestial birds. It's a star in ε UMa, a part of Ursa Major constellation.  
> Thank you so much, Lyra for helping me brainstorm and all the ideas and information you shared!


	5. A Turning Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!

“So will you tell me what you sold my friendship for, Malfoy?”

Harry was surprised when Hermione forced her way into his carriage, where his blonde fiance was also seated, dabbing at his red eyes with his handkerchief.

To minimise travelling by portkey for Malfoy, it had been decided that he would ride a carriage back home. Flown by thestrals, it would take less than a day’s travel. Harry only planned to accompany him till they passed the nearest mansion of a noble from the liberal faction, who could lend him their floo without raising an eyebrow at the fact that Malfoy and he were travelling separately.

Harry thought that Hermione would use the portkey back home like Zabini, Nott and Luna, but he didn’t mind riding in the same carriage as her, too.

Besides, Harry also wanted answers.

The carriage jerked as the thestrals took off. Malfoy looked calm as he replied. “I thought friendship with Lord Zhongli is no skin off your back.”

Hermione didn’t let herself be deflected. “It’s true, but that’s not my point,” the witch was a capable negotiator, always determined and logical in her persuasions.

Malfoy exhaled slowly, not in a hurry to talk. The conservative purebloods faction was always saying that the liberals were too direct.

Hermione continued to observe the blonde keenly. “Your target wasn’t your ‘Great uncle’, was it?” Harry could literally hear the air quotes.

“I know you don’t need me to spell it out loud, Lady Granger,” Malfoy carded his fingers through his hair, bringing the pale locks away from his face. The skin around his eyes were starting to turn puffy.

“Confirmation would have been nice,” Hermione scowled. “So, Lord Tartaglia really is the former Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui.”

“Nobody will give you the truth outright,” Malfoy remarked idly as he casted a cooling charm to his handkerchief and placed the folded piece of fabric on his eyes. “But from his aura and magical power, you could probably tell, right? Besides… King Riddle did visit them, you know.”

“Lord Zhongli and Lord Tartaglia?” Both Harry and Hermione seemed surprised. Voldemort wasn’t someone who made social visits. “Why?”

Even without being able to see half his face, Harry knew Malfoy was queasy. “You know King Riddle was… obsessed with the idea of immortality, right?”

The horcruxes. Oh yeah, definitely.

Well, the two looked young, but... “Are they immortals?” Harry joked.

Malfoy was quiet for a moment. “You know, when I saw Lord Zhongli over a decade ago, he looked the same. Didn’t seem to have aged one day. I’ve never felt any disillusionment charms from him, either. One does wonder…”

Before the mood turned strange, Harry blurted. “Was it true that Wormtail lost an arm during Voldemort’s meeting with Zhongli and Tartaglia?”

Malfoy flinched at Harry’s casual use of the former tyrant’s name, but he obliged. “Yes. Quite a few Death Eaters never came back from that meeting as well.”

Hermione looked pensive. The carriage was silent for a while before she nodded to herself. “I see… not a bad trade. I forgive you.”

“Wait, what?” if the carriage wasn’t airborne, Harry would have stood up. “Explain,” he commanded irately.

Hermione shot him a dirty look and huffed. “Harry-”

“You know that Durmstrang was born from the ashes of the Snezhnaya empire, right?” Malfoy began, the chilled handkerchief still covering his face. “And the Harbingers were the elites of the Fatui, the highest of the high. Even now, they still control intelligence networks all over the world. There is nothing they don’t know.” 

“Especially about Durmstrang, where the Snezhnaya empire used to be,” Hermione crossed her arms. “Lord Tartaglia is obviously fond of Lord Zhongli. For some reason, Lord Zhongli can’t - or won’t, I don’t know - stay in Han. The two can’t live in Yamato anymore and it’s more… comfortable for them to move somewhere they’re welcome in the King’s court. So that is what we are offering them. Did I cover everything?” she asked the blonde. 

Malfoy put a gloved hand on his handkerchief, the other hand unconsciously resting on his stomach. “Yes,” he murmured absently.

“The biggest threat to our peace is if the former Death Eaters who fled to Durmstrang manage to convince the Durmstrang Royal Family to invade us on the grounds of assisting the purebloods get back their lands,” Hermione went on. “With the deal, ‘Childe’ will alert us if he senses such disturbance from the horizon.”

Harry blinked.

“...It was… for us.” 

He almost said, ‘for me. For my dream of uniting Petra.’

Malfoy removed the handkerchief from his face and gave Harry a weird look. “It’s my job, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but…” Harry didn’t expect Malfoy would willingly brave an encounter with the former Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, a soldier infamous for his hitcount, just for the sake of ‘his job’. Being in the presence of Tartaglia’s murderous intention was akin to having sharp blades pressed to the skin of one’s neck. The man was as volatile as an unstable Blasting curse.

He suddenly felt very touched. “...I…”

“Thank you very much, Draco,” Hermione said suddenly, her full attention on the blonde. Her brown eyes and expression were very sincere. “I’m touched by your devotion to Petra.”

Malfoy threw his gaze. “You’re making this awkward, Lady Granger… I am just doing my duty.”

Harry clenched his fists. Again, he’d let the appropriate moment come to pass. If he insisted on expressing his gratitude now, Malfoy would just feel more uncomfortable.

So Harry kept quiet.

Nobody said anything when the King didn’t get off as they passed by Count Moody’s home, and accompanied his fiance all the way till they reached Petra’s Royal Castle.

As Harry helped Malfoy get down from the carriage, he held on to the blonde’s hand for longer than necessary, his eyes fixed on the long, slender fingers.

“Your Majesty?” Malfoy looked baffled.

“Thanks for your hard work,” Harry wanted to say more, but the words were all jumbled up in his mind. “Have a good rest.”

Malfoy stopped and stared at the King for a couple of seconds, before he retrieved his hand. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said gracefully, as always.

Harry watched the blonde’s figure as he walked away; his head was… full.

For once, he wasn’t thinking of Petra.

* * *

Harry should have known that Ginny would be in his bed.

The redhead was knitting a tiny red romper with yellow hems. She looked up when he opened the door. “Hey,” she smiled softly. 

Any other day, she would be his picture perfect image of home, her loosely braided hair resting on her left shoulder, her lap and stomach covered in a cozy blanket. Harry would press closer to her, tucking his cold feet under her calves. She would shriek and smack him before they both huddled under the covers, and Harry would rub her stomach and chat with the baby.

Tonight, Harry just wasn’t in the mood. He simply sat on the edge of his bed and put on a pair of socks.

Other nobles had valets, but Harry had never liked to be dressed by others.

Ginny put aside her knitting and leaned on his back. “I missed you yesterday.”

Harry knew it; she was questioning why he didn’t come back earlier. Her approach had gotten softer, though. Less accusatory.

“I’m sorry,” the King didn’t know what else to say. “Malfoy didn’t look well.” It wasn’t technically a lie.

Ginny still pouted, though she didn’t do it for long. She started to massage his shoulders, pressing the muscles which were tense. “How was the trip?”

‘Eye-opening,’ if he were to be truly honest. Zhongli was a pleasant host and rubbing shoulders with him wasn’t such an unusual experience, but the ten minutes he’d spent with the Harbinger, without the amber-eyed man, ranked quite high in the list of things Harry didn’t want to experience again. 

Yet, not all monsters were evil.

“A very useful alliance came out of it,” Harry opted for another vague honesty.

Silence fell over the room. 

The atmosphere was too heavy.

“What do you think about James Fred-” Ginny tried to reopen the topic on potential names for their child, but Harry interrupted her by grabbing her hand. 

“I’m sorry Gin, I think I’m too tired.”

Ginny smiled wanly, before she crossed her arms and huffed. “That’s what you get for travelling in a carriage for one whole day!” She stuck her tongue out to let him know she was joking. “Let’s sleep, then!” She lifted the blanket and patted the mattress.

Harry followed her lead, but after all the Lumos charms were extinguished, sleep evaded him for a long time.

* * *

The next morning saw Harry walking toward Malfoy’s quarters, pushing a trolley overflowing with food.

The Malfoy he remembered from school had a huge sweet tooth. Harry thought he saw scones, muffins, or croissants with jam on the blonde’s breakfast plate often in Hogwarts; sometimes even pancakes, drenched in golden, syrupy honey. Not to mention, the care packages Narcissa Malfoy sent were notoriously famous for being filled to the brim with chocolates, and only about half were shared with Crabbe and Goyle. 

But recently, Harry had been observing Malfoy eating a lot of proteins the mornings they ate together - sausages, scrambled eggs, sometimes even fish - Harry didn’t know if the blonde’s tastes had simply changed, or he just ate with consideration of what his baby needed.

Harry didn’t know, so he heaped everything onto his trolley.

And now, the King was loitering awkwardly, practicing what he was going to say in his head.

‘Hey, I brought you breakfast to thank you...’

Harry frowned. Too formal.

‘Morning, Draco. How does breakfast in bed sound?’

Are they close enough to be _that_ casual?

Harry sighed inwardly. The first one was still better, despite how distant it might sound. He brought the trolley closer to the door…

And realised two things: the door was ajar, and Malfoy already had visitors.

Harry’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. There were still… 1 hour to morning assembly. Just how early did the blonde’s days start?

“You screwed up really badly, Theo,” Zabini’s proud voice could be heard from the gap between the wall and the door. “You were lucky Lord Tartaglia interrupted when he did. It’s akin to stumbling out of the frying pan into the fire, though!”

Viscount Nott’s voice was calm, but the undercurrent was filled with annoyance. “Thankfully he was pleased with the vase and the perfume.”

Zabini snorted. “Your gifts were so cheap, though! Even the chilies can’t compare to my jade and Cor Lapis-”

“You wouldn’t even have the chance to brag about your oh-so-precious stones without my intel-” Theodore Nott stopped trying to hide his anger.

“...Stop it,” Malfoy’s voice finally entered the fray. He sounded tired.

There was silence for a moment, before someone sighed. “Blaise, you are not even aiming to be my aide, are you?”

Zabini chuckled. “Now, now Draco…” 

“I am very thankful for the high-quality gifts you prepared, of course… and your presence in the court,” sounds of furniture scraping against the floor and fabric swishing could be heard, followed by high-pitched clinking of metal and porcelain. The familiar aroma of earl grey wafted out of the room. 

Harry knew the blonde would be enjoying his tea with a lot of cream. It was the way he always took his tea. 

“I would be even more grateful if you can stop using Theo to let off steam.” 

Zabini spluttered. He made some vague noises of protest, which died down soon. “Is there anything I can hide from you, Draco?” 

The dark-skinned man seemed to ask that question quite often these days.

The door opened slightly wider, and Harry could see Malfoy slowly rising to his feet, weighted down by velvet midnight blue robes with silver embroideries of a crane on the chest. He raised his hand and left it hanging in the air.

Theodore Nott looked startled at the implication of the gesture. He stepped forward hesitantly, gingerly taking the hand closer to him before bowing and placing the ghost of a kiss on the back of Malfoy’s hand. “T-thank you… I promise I will serve you with all that I have.”

The proper thing to do was to let go of Malfoy’s hand, but young Nott only gripped that hand tighter. “I-I’m sorry. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. I know I could have taken your place… and you wouldn’t have to be here. I-I know y-you’re fond of Syaoran, and he holds you dear, and-” his voice was breaking.

Malfoy’s gaze turned soft. “Theo, I know you’re afraid of childbirth because of what happened with your birth father.” The blonde held the other pureblood’s white-knucked hand. “I know… yet I still took my revenge… Would you please forgive me?”

Theodore Nott looked up. “How could you possibly be the one asking for forgiveness?” His dark blue eyes were dry, but his smile was watery. 

Malfoy returned the smile. It was fond and genuine, like the smile he had returned Lord Li. “Thank you for coming, Theo. I need all the help I can get.”

Zabini stood quietly at the sideline with a smile on his own face, like he was glad his previous Housemates reconciled and he didn’t just pour oil into the fire a few minutes ago. After the two blondes stepped back and recomposed themselves, the handsome wizard clapped his hands. “Now, who’s up for some breakfast? I have some blueberry scones."

Malfoy declined the offer with a shake of his head, his loose hair hanging limply around him. “Thanks, Blaise. But I have no appetite.”

For once, concern entered Zabini’s face. “You can’t face two hours of morning assembly with an empty stomach… Maybe just have some toasts...”

The blonde only appeared more ill at the mention of food.

Harry stopped eavesdropping and walked away carefully, quiet as a mouse. He looked down at the food on his trolley. What was he going to do with these?

Ginny’s face had lighted up when she laid her eyes on the trolley. “Breakfast in bed? Wow, Harry, you’re so nice…” she was warm as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a smooch on the cheek.

“Glad you like it,” Harry squashed the guilt in his heart and forced a smile on his face. “Let’s eat.”

‘I need all the help I can get,’ Malfoy had said.

So Harry resolved to help Draco.

TBC

A/N: Coming next: An Interlude - a day in the life of Draco Malfoy

Comment please!


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